


When the Wolf Runs

by Emmitha



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Dark!Rose, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Rose and Rory are friends, Rose has Many names, Rose is the Bad Wolf, Rose is trying her best, Rose kinda adopts River, Self-Harm, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 05:12:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 58,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4335170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emmitha/pseuds/Emmitha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose's first mistake was running across a battlefield. Her second was thinking she could change history. And when Rose makes a mistake, she makes it big time. Eventual reunion. Forgiveness takes longer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So this story was the first piece of Fan Fiction I ever wrote. It was originally published on FF.net, but it got such good feedback, I thought I'd bring it over here. Hope you enjoy it!

                Years later, Rose wouldn’t be able to remember quite how it happened, it had been so fast and the aftermath had left her so broken…the whole thing was little more than a blur.

            She and John had been left on Bad Wolf Bay ten years ago, had gotten married eight years ago, had first started traveling in their young TARDIS six years ago. Their TARDIS still couldn’t travel in time, but space was simple enough for her, and so Rose and John had taken off for the stars as soon as they were able. The Doctor and Rose in the TARDIS, just as it should be.

            Despite the circumstances, not much had changed; they still seemed to find trouble wherever they went, and it always seemed to end with them running for their lives. They loved every minute of it…until the day they didn’t run fast enough.

            They’d gone to the planet of Lorcona 7, a planet John said was known for its peaceful inhabitants and beautiful forest. He had forgotten that that peace hadn’t started until the year 2047, and previous to that year the planet had been engulfed in an all-consuming war.

            They had landed in a small clearing in the forest, as beautiful as John had said it was, and had immediately gone exploring. Rose and John laughed and talked and pointed out the beautiful flora as they went, heading towards a small settlement where John said there should be a festival in honor of the planet’s lunar goddess.

            They started to hear the sounds of guns when they were still about a half a mile from the settlement. But they didn’t go back to the TARDIS, no. They were still the Doctor and Rose, no matter what had changed. They grinned, and Rose had made a joke about how they couldn’t even go to a pacifist planet without finding trouble, and then they were running towards the commotion, excited for the new adventure.

            This is when Rose’s memory starts to get fuzzy. They’d come out of the trees, trying to keep out of sight while they watched the battle. Their humor had soon disappeared as they realized just what they were watching, and John had muttered something about a war. They watched in horror from behind what looked like a crashed hovercraft, and had been so preoccupied by the scene before them, that they hadn’t noticed another platoon of soldiers come out behind them until it was too late.

            Rose and John obviously weren’t the enemy; the inhabitants of Lorcona 7 had skin that resembled a snake’s, with a thin ridge protruding where their eyebrows would be if they were human. Since John and Rose looked nothing like this, the Lorconians ignored John and Rose, more focused on killing each other. But Rose and John were still stuck in the middle of a battle, and bullets were flying over their heads and into the sand at their feat. John had started to try and pull Rose, who had frozen, into the hovercraft they were hiding behind when the first bullet caught him in the shoulder. The force had caused him to jerk to the side, which was when the second bullet had ripped through his sternum.

            Rose had finally been ripped from her shock when John had collapsed with a cry of pain behind her. The next few minutes were full of blood and tears and screaming. The battle raged around the two for hours, and when it finally stopped, the survivors had found a young human woman clutching the body of a human male, staring at it blankly.

            Despite the war they were engaged in, the Lorconians were still a kind people, and so they tried to bring the human woman back to their village. But she had screamed and lashed out every time they tried to pull her away from the body she was so desperately clutching, that they finally had to knock her out and carry her back. They brought the body as well, since it was so important to her.

            When she had woken up, she immediately started screaming and crying again, and so they brought her to the body of the man. She clutched at his hand, begging him to wake up, crying and making promises all the while. This went on for several days, and the woman refused food and sleep during this time. Finally, the Lorconians managed to convince her that they had to bury the body, as it was decomposing. She didn’t respond, but didn’t try to fight them when they took the body, either.

            The woman did not speak for ten years after that, but didn’t leave the Lorconians, either. They built her a hut of her own, and brought her food. She hadn’t told them her name, and refused to speak or communicate in any way, so they simply referred to her as the Widow, assuming the dead man had been her husband.

            This went on for ten years until one day, the Widow was just gone. Her hut still had all the possessions the Lorconians had given her over the years—clothes, pictures, dishes—but the Widow was gone, and after a few days and several search parties, they decided she had trul left them.

            Rose, meanwhile, had returned to her TARDIS, and sent it into the void. The TARDIS had reached full maturity over the past ten years, and was frantic with worry over Rose. Because of the connection Rose and John both had had with the machine, the TARDIS was aware that John had died, and pushed as much comfort as she could into the mind of her Wolf, and tried not to communicate the feelings of anger and abandonment she had after being left alone for ten years, forced to deal with her own sense of loss over the death of the man she had known her whole life.

            But if Rose had been unresponsive to the Lorconians, she was only marginally better with the TARDIS. She communicated through thoughts to the machine, but mostly just lay curled up in the bed she had shared with John.

            It was a month before the TARDIS had decided that enough was enough, and forcefully ejected Rose from the bedroom and into the control room. It was enough to finally illicit a response from Rose, though perhaps not the one the TARDIS had been going for. Rose began to curse and scream, kicking at the coral structures of the room (for this TARDIS had chosen a desktop to match the one from Rose and John’s memories). But even if this wasn’t the reaction the TARDIS was going for, she responded with many of the same emotions, pushing feelings of hurt and anger into Rose’s mind, and shaking the room violently. The two went at it for hours, one yelling the other seething in a rage she was unable to vocalize.

            Finally, when the two were spent, they both quieted down, Rose collapsing into the jump seat. “I just don’t know what to do any more, Old Girl…” she whispered, her throat raw from all the screaming.

            The TARDIS had hummed in a way that was both sad and soothing, and kept up the gentle hum as Rose fell asleep.

            Now it was two hundred years later, and Rose still wasn’t quite dealing with everything in a way that would be considered healthy. She had realized that she’d become just as immortal as Jack when she tried to kill herself shortly after John’s burial, and woken up with a gasp only a few minutes later. The best guess she could come up with was that her time as Bad Wolf had had more effect on her than they’d originally thought. The knowledge that she couldn’t die hadn’t stopped her from trying to kill herself, but she eventually gave up since each failed attempt only served to further depress her.

            She’d spent a decade or so just floating in the vortex in the TARDIS, reading every book in the library and teaching herself how to fight. She’d gotten it into her head that if she had known how to fight, then John would still be alive. The TARDIS tried to reason with her, of course, but Rose would have none of it.

            She’d also stopped calling herself Rose, and had asked the TARDIS to, as well. Since there was no one else around, she hadn’t bothered to assign herself a name, and the TARDIS just referred to her as “My Wolf.”

            After a few years, though, Rose started traveling again, saving planets, and getting into trouble. If she had learned anything from the Doctor and John, it was when you can’t bear to look back, run. She managed to work enough in the shadows that it was a few years before anyone actually managed to ask her name. Rose had paused, considering. “I don’t know. Haven’t been called anything in a long time. The last time anyone called me anything, they called me the Widow, so I guess that works,” she had said. And she had used that name for a few years, but then it became too much of a reminder of what she had lost. So the next time someone asked, she responded “The Warden . Call me the Warden.” She had picked the name because she had become something of a police force throughout the universe, restoring balance to planets consumed by chaos and stopping evil villains from their nefarious schemes.

            She practically never stopped; once she finished rescuing one planet, it was off to another to end a war; then to another galaxy to overthrow a dictator; and on and on and on. She only stopped when she was so tired that she barely made it through the door of the TARDIS before she collapsed on the floor, sound asleep. Sometimes, though, the TARDIS would lock the doors for a few days and refuse to let her Wolf leave. During that time, the Warden would usually read or re-read some of the books in the library, or worked more on her weapons training. If there was one thing about her that was different from both John and the Doctor, it was that she had no aversion to weapons. She rarely killed, unable to get rid of that one moral, but it was not unheard of for her to take a life, if she was in a desperate enough situation.

            The Warden was a completely different person from the girl who had first stepped into the blue box; she was a fighter, a force to be reckoned with. Just the mention of her name could scare Silurians and even give Daleks pause. She was afraid of nothing; what had she to fear? Even if she died, she just came right back. She was not human; and she had abandoned what was left of her humanity long ago, finding it too painful.

            The TARDIS was worried, but nothing she did could bring her Wolf back to what she once was, and the TARDIS feared her Wolf was gone forever.


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prologue makes me wince every time I read it now, I swear. But I don't really want to go through and fix this now that I'm a better writer, either. So if you're still with me, thanks!

            On a planet called Raxacon, in an alley between two buildings that looked vaguely brick-like, there was a quiet whooshing noise as the wind picked up in just one spot, dying down as a red door appeared on one of the walls. The Warden had purposefully broken her Chameleon Arch, just a like a certain other owner of a TARDIS, so that her TARDIS always appeared as a door. There were a few occasions when she didn’t land near a building, and a red doorway would just stand alone in the middle of a field, but it worked very well for the most part; much less conspicuous than a blue police call box.

            The Warden stepped out of the red door, locking it behind her before turning to examine the ally she’d landed in. She tugged her leather jacket a bit closer, and then wandered out onto the main street.

            Raxacon in the 74th century was populated largely by humans, though there was a substantial Vinvocci population. The original inhabitants had either died out (or, more likely, been killed off by human settlers in the 29th century) or never existed, so there was no one to really complain about the non-native inhabitants. The city the Warden  stopped in was called New Miami (because humans really weren't all that creative when it came to naming things. New Earth, New York, New New York, New Jersey; really, the list went on and on), and, while it lacked a beach, it did have that sort of party-town vibe to it. The people walking down the streets laughed and talked and shopped, and the Warden got the distinct impression that many of them were tourists.

            The Warden didn’t really know why she’d been brought to this planet; she usually just went wherever her TARDIS took her and fixed any problems she found once she got there. So this was why she kept her ears open as she wandered the streets, listening in on conversations for anything that sounded out of the ordinary. She did this for an hour, and was growing restless before she finally saw something interesting.

            She’d been walking down the street, glaring at a vinvocci who was trying to sell her something, when she noticed that yellow “DO NOT CROSS” police tape had been put up in front of a store front. Curious, the Warden walked over to look, leaving the green spiky vendor behind. As she approached, the Warden realized she was looking at a murder scene, if the blood coating the windows was anything to go off of.

            “What happened here?” she asked another curious bystander, a human who was whispering to her vinvocci friend. The human looked at the Warden incredulously. “Haven’t you heard? There’s been a string of murders lately, serial killins if you ask me. Whoever’s doin’ it has only been killin’ humans, guys mostly, though he did kill that one girl who’d just gotten her gender changed…anywho, this looks like it’s his seventh victim this week,” the girl said in a strong American southern accent.

            The Warden glanced towards the store, a souvenir shop from the look of it, and watched as the local police spoke in hushed voices, glancing at the blood streaked windows. “Looks like it was a pretty brutal murder… It’s the middle of the day, how’d he manage to do it without getting caught?” she asked, giving a side glance to the girl.

            “Well that’s the big mystery init? Always happens in the middle of the day, in a public place, and no one ever seems to notice ‘til it’s all over with. By the time someone goes to check on the poor soul that’s been killed, there’s no trace of the guy that done it. Spooky, ain’t it?” The girl asked, then giggled, before turning back to her friend.

            The Warden raised an eyebrow; clearly this girl saw these murders as nothing more than a good piece of gossip. The Warden sighed; humans. She slipped under the yellow tape, and walked up to the shop, right past the police. “Hey, you can’t be here!” someone yelled as she walked inside, but the Warden paid them no mind.

            The inside of the shop was not as bad as the Warden had thought it would be; there was a fair bit of blood, to be sure, but nothing that made it appear as if there had been a struggle. The body was just under the window, lying in two pieces. The head had been severed and the body ravaged; whoever did this was very strong, and had a lot of rage.

            “I said you can’t be in here!” a cop yelled at her, running inside. He blanched at the sight of the mutilated body, then kept his eyes trained on the Warden.

            “Wanna bet?” The Warden asked with a wolfish grin that didn’t quite meet her eyes. She flashed a piece of paper (she’d kept John’s old psychic paper, though not much else) before continuing. “I’m the Warden, was sent down from up state to help with the investigation. I understand we have a serial killer out there?”

            The cop stuttered a few moments, before nodding uneasily. “We’re trying not let the press know we think it’s a serial killer, don’t want to cause panic you know, but yeah. That’s what’s going on…” he trailed off uncertainly, glancing at the body again before looking away with a shiver.

            The Warden watched him with interest. “What’s your name, officer?” she asked after a moment.

            He glanced at her, surprised it seemed. “Oh, sorry, ma’am, it’s Martin, ma’am, Alaric Martin,” he said nervously.

            “Nice to meet you, Alaric. Now, tell me, why are you so jumpy?” she asked, taking a step closer.

            Alaric fidgeted. “This is my first week, ma’am, my first dead body. I didn’t think it would be like this when I signed on. Thought I would just be making sure nobody wandered the streets too drunk, you know? We’re a party town, not really known for our criminal activity,” he explained.

            The Warden nodded in understanding. “Well, I’ll take it from here, Alaric. Why don’t you go out there and take care of the crowd; they don’t need to see this. You can send the other officers off, as well. I won’t need their help,” she said, turning away from the officer in a clear dismissal.

            “Ah, but, I…yes, ma’am…” he stuttered before fleeing from the room.

            “Now then, what got a hold of you?” the Warden muttered as she drew closer to the dead body. From here, she could see the way the skin on the neck—both the bit still attached to the shoulders and the bit attached to the head—was ragged and uneven. The head and been ripped off, then, not cut. The Warden filed that bit of information way as she started looking over the injuries on the body. Claw marks, it looked like, and from a creature with only three fingers, too. There were a few teeth marks, but they had been marred by the cutting from the claws, and so the Warden couldn’t get a clear look at them.

            It looked like an animal attack, really, and it was a wonder the police on this planet had managed to realize it was a murder. The Warden ran through a list of aliens she knew as she examined the body, ruling out anything that didn’t quite match what she was looking at. Even with all the information she’d gotten—three fingers, immense strength, a biter, probably either an animal-like race or a warrior race—the list was still long, and impossible to narrow down further with what she had.

            She stood up and moved away from the body, thinking. It had to be something fast or invisible in order to do this. It had come in and left without anyone noticing, and it looked like the victim hadn’t even gotten the chance to try and run away, let alone put up a fight. And why would something attack a souvenir shop worker, anyway? She needed more information…

            “Ma’am, everyone’s gone now. Should I call in the coroner and the clean-up crew?” Alaric asked, poking his head through the door and pointedly not looking at the body.

            “Alaric! Just who I wanted to see!” The Warden said cheerfully, walking over to him. “I need you to get me all the information you can on the other killings. Bring them here,” she grabbed his hand and wrote down the address of where she’d parked the TARDIS, “it’ll be the red door. Thanks a heap!” She said, and then ran off. She needed to use the TARDIS’ systems to try and further narrow down the possibilities of the murderer.

            “Uh, but--!” Alaric yelled after the Warden, but she was already gone. He looked at the address on his hand and frowned. He was pretty sure there weren’t any red doors there…in fact, he was pretty sure the only two buildings there were a diner and a warehouse. He sighed and shook his head. He’d do what the Warden told him to, and if there was no red door at this address, well, then it was her fault for telling him the wrong place, and there was no way he could get in trouble for it.


	3. Chapter 2

            It had taken a few hours for Alaric to get together all the information that the Warden wanted. He had to convince several of his superiors that he was taking the information to a detective, not a reporter, and that, yes, he had seen her identification. In the end, he got all of the papers, though he had to call in a few favors to do it. Now he was standing at the address the Warden had given him, staring at the two buildings, and wondering if he had just wasted his time getting all of this information together.

            It was just as he thought: a diner and a warehouse, and no red door. Sighing with disgust, he went to walk away when something down the alley caught his eye: a red door. Alaric blinked, then backed up to look through the window into the diner. Because the diner was open concept on the inside, he was able to see to the portion of the wall where the red door should have opened inside; but there was nothing there.

            Thoroughly confused, but definitely curious, Alaric went down the alley, and knocked on the red door. It opened inward, and Alaric took that as an invitation to come inside. He stepped through, and then just stopped, staring at the enormous room with his mouth slightly open.

            “Alaric! Took you long enough. Here, let me take that, thank you!” The Warden said cheerfully, grabbing the papers from the still stunned Alaric and dashing back to the large console in the middle of the room.

            Alaric moved closer to the middle of the room, then just stopped, trying to understand what he was seeing. The walls where black, which small silver windows, though Alaric couldn’t see out of them from the angle he was standing at. The floor was silver, as where the steps that led up to raised platform where the console that the Warden was working at was situated. Peering through the stairs, Alaric could see a tangle of wires hanging from beneath the console. The console itself was large and circular, with all manner of buttons and knobs and levers on it, and a large glass cylinder rising up from the center. In the glass cylinder was what looked like a silver bellows.

            “How…how…” Alaric started, unable to find the words to phrase his question.

            “Half a mo’, gotta put all this info into my computer. You can figure out exactly what it is you’re trying to say in the meantime,” the Warden called.

            The Warden was watching Alaric carefully even as she put the information into her systems. She’d brought a few people in here over the years, and why they were always a bit surprised by the…décor, they never reacted quite as Alaric was. That meant one of two things then; one, he was just prone to overreaction. Somehow, the Warden didn’t think that was very likely. The only other option, then, was that he had somehow realized that the door he’d just gone through didn’t lead to the inside of the building it was attached to; if was that one, then the boy was a bit more clever than the Warden had originally given him credit for.

            She finished putting everything into the computer, then moved around to lean against the console so that she was facing Alaric. “Alright, that’ll take a few minutes to sort through everything. In the meantime, you look like you have some questions,” she prompted, watching him carefully, though keeping a smile plastered on her face to keep from making him nervous.

            “This room is impossible,” Alaric stated, his wandering eyes finally focusing on the Warden.

            “Well, you’re standing in it, so clearly not. Care to try again?” She asked, amusement flickering across her face.

            Alaric glared. “I looked through the window into the diner that the door is attached to, and there is no door in there. No place for this room to exist. How is it I walked through a door into a room that can’t exist within the building that the door is attached to?” He said, impatience coloring his tone and masking the fear he was feeling.

            The Warden grinned. “Now we’re getting somewhere! Alright, you’ve caught me. This is my ship, she can disguise herself as anything in the multiverse, anything that allows her to fit in and not be noticed. Broke that feature, actually, so now she just shows up as a red door. Really quite a laugh when she shows up where there’re no buildings. There’s just a door, sitting there with nothing attached to it! And you still go through into another room. Right, as for the whole bigger on the inside bit, long story short and in layman’s terms, this is another dimension. Anything else?” The Warden grinned, amused by the look on Alaric’s face as he tried to absorb her rapid fire response.

            “...What kind of name is the Warden, anyway?” He asked after a moment. His bravado caused by his earlier confusion was already beginning to dissipate, and the Warden could almost feel the returning to the shyly polite man who called her “ma’am” every few seconds.

            “A rubbish one, or so I’ve been told,” she said, turning away and going back to her computer screen. There was a list of possible alien life forms on the screen, generated by the TARDIS based on everything the Warden had put in. She frowned as she scrolled through, deleting a few of the names as she went. “No, no, no, maybe, definitely not, no, no…” she murmured as she went along.

            Alaric was still lost. He was in a room that was bigger than it should be, and apparently in another dimension. He pinched himself, wondering if he was still asleep. He winced at the slight pain; apparently he wasn’t asleep. He slowly moved up the stairs and around the console so that he could see the Warden again. “So, is the Warden not your real name?” He asked curiously, watching her fingers fly across her keyboard.

            “What? No, I suppose not. But what makes one name any more real than the other? I’ve got lots of names, you know. The Warden, the Widow, the Defender of the Earth, the Bad Wolf, the Valiant Child, the Abomination, that Woman with the Gun; really, the list is quite long,” she said absently. She was considering a Phlanthoox, but eventually deleted the name from the list after deciding the creature was too stupid to be able to do what the murderer was doing.

            “But those all sound like titles, ma’am, not actual names,” Alaric pointed out, frowning slightly.

            The Warden paused for half a second, before continuing, ignoring Alaric altogether. Alaric took the hint, and remained silent, staring around the room that he still didn’t quite understand.

            “Aha!” The Warden yelled in triumph a moment later, scaring Alaric out of his skin. “I found it! I can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner, it’s so obvious!” She shook her head at her own thickness, before turning and walking down a hall.

            Alaric scurried after her. “What is it?” He asked, jogging slightly to keep up with the Warden’s rapid pace.

            “A Raxaconian, of course! Most people don’t know that this planet had a native species, but it did. Well, at least until humans came along and killed them all so they could get the prime real estate,” here she through a glance over her shoulder at her very human companion before continuing. “At least one of them must have survived, though, and now he’s angry. Justifiably so, too. Still, doesn’t quite give him the right to kill a bunch of mostly innocent people, so I’ll have to do something about that.”

She turned into a side room, which Alaric quickly realized was a weapons room. The walls were lined with more weapons than Alaric had ever seen, and many of which he didn’t recognize. He watched the woman who was quickly developing a healthy fear of as she slid a silver knife into a sheath at her wrist, covering it with the sleeve of her leather jacket. She then strapped a holster to her thigh and slid a gun into it.

“Right then, thanks for all your help Alaric, but I’ve got it from here. With any luck, I’ll get rid of the Raxaconian before it kills anyone else, and you’ll never see me again,” the Warden said, ushering Alaric out of the room.

“What do you mean “get rid of?” You said that this was its native planet, you can’t just kill it!” Alaric protested. Though really, he didn’t quite know what else could be done with the thing, it obviously couldn’t stay here.

“Did you miss the part where I called this my ship? I’ll take it to another planet where it can’t harm anyone. The weapons are just in case it doesn’t give me any other choice. Raxaconians are intelligent creatures, capable of reason. They also just happen to have a massive temper and a very short fuse. Worst case scenario, I injure it so that it can’t put up a fight, heal it here, and drop it off somewhere else. See? Easy-peasy. Now, off you go!” She said, practically pushing Alaric off of the TARDIS.

“But what about you? Won’t you need help?” Alaric asked, even as the Warden tried to shut the door on him.

“Nah, I’m pretty good at taking care of myself. Now, off you go Alaric. I need to relocate to a more central location, and you need to go do whatever cops in New Miami do. Ta!” And with that, she slammed the door in Alaric’s face. Alaric considered pounding of the door, but eventually, he sighed and started to walk away. A bit of wind kicked up behind him, and he turned in just enough time to see the red door fade from sight.


	4. Chapter 3

            The Warden let the cheerful grin she’d maintained while Alaric was around to fall from her face; her face maintained an emotionless quality as she turned back to her console. She tried to pretend to be cheerful, and possibly a little mad (though, honestly, she wasn’t sure how much of the madness was pretend anymore) whenever she was around others; it kept them from asking too many questions. Plus, the whole emotionless look tended to make people a little afraid of her, which wasn’t always a good thing. But when she was alone, fake emotions took too much energy, and real emotions were usually the ones she wanted to avoid. The TARDIS hummed at her as she absently stroked the console.

The Warden looked at the map she’d created with the help of the TARDIS as she waited for her ship to rematerialize. By using the locations of the other attacks, she’d been able to calculate about where the Raxaconian should be hiding, and she landed her ship close to that spot. She stepped outside of her TARDIS, glancing behind her as she shut the door to make sure the ship had landed against a building—which she had—before she walked out into the street. It was a very busy area, filled with shops and cafes and all the things tourists bought into. It hardly seemed like the place for a homicidal alien (well, native inhabitant, technically) to hide out.

            The Warden chewed on her lower lip as she looked around. “Right, if I were a large angry beastie, where would I hide…” she murmured to herself. Nothing was jumping out at her as she looked, until her eyes landed on a manhole. She smacked her forehead. “Of course! They’re always in the sewers!”

            She grunted as she pulled the heavy lid aside, then grinned at some curious pedestrians. “Don’t mind me, just doing a bit of maintenance!” She said cheerfully, flashing her psychic paper at them before climbing down into the sewer.

            She wrinkled her nose as she reached the bottom. ‘ _Why do they always have to be in the sewers?’_ she thought to herself before clicking on her torch and setting off down the tunnel. She moved quietly, not wanting to alert the Raxaconian that she was down there; sure she wanted to reason with it, but that didn’t mean that it needed advance warning of her arrival.

            She heard something ahead around a corner, and switched off her light, creeping forward slowly. There was a splash, followed by muffled curse—a decidedly _human_ curse, in a rather familiar tone of voice. The Warden rolled her eyes before switching her light back on, and going around the corner. She came out behind Alaric, and hit him upside the head in lieu of a greeting.

            “Ow! What the—oh, it’s you,” Alraic muttered, rubbing his head where the Warden hit it, and sounding slightly sheepish.

            “What’re you doing down here? I thought I told you to go do cop things?” She demanded, glaring at him.

            Alaric flinched under her gaze, but didn’t back down. “There’s a thing killing the people out there; this _is_ a cop thing,” he snapped. “Ma’am,” he added, a moment later, wincing slightly as she kept glaring at him.

            “Just like you stupid humans, always trying to be _noble_ ,” the Warden muttered under her breath, looking away from Alaric. “Look,” she said, cutting Alaric off as he started to say something, “this is going to be dangerous, and I can’t promise your safety. You’ve got a family up there, yeah? Go back to them, Alaric,” she said, returning her eyes to him. She wasn’t bothering with the cheery mask anymore. Sometimes, a healthy dose a fear was a good thing.

            But Alaric was shaking his head. “I haven’t got any family, ma’am, so there’s no use telling me to go back for them. I knew it was dangerous when I came down here, but I became a cop so that I could protect these people, and so I’m staying down here with you.”

            “Of course you don’t,” the Warden growled. Part of Alaric’s speech was a lie; he’d told her himself when they first met that he hadn’t thought he would ever deal with any murders when he signed on as a cop; but now he looked determined. The Warden sighed; she didn’t have time for this. Already the distraction of a homicidal alien was wearing thin, and she was ready to move on to the next adventure. “Alright fine. How’d you even know to come down here, anyway?” She asked curiously, putting the glare away for now.

            Alaric visibly relaxed. “Well, ma’am—”

            “Stop calling me ma’am,” the Warden ordered, a hint of annoyance creeping into her voice.

            “Right, sorry ma—I mean, sorry, just…sorry,” Alaric stuttered, before trying again. “We’re not used to murders around here, but we’re not completely useless. We’ve been using the locations of the other attacks to try and come up with where the killer was hiding since this whole thing started. We’ve checked down here before, but I figured this would probably be the first place you looked, so I went ahead and came down.”

            The Warden was quiet for a moment, chewing on her lip again. The police had already looked down here, but there was always the chance they’d missed something. “Right, well, we’ll take a look anyway, case your people missed something. Follow me, and _keep quiet_ ,” she said, before pointing her torch down the passage and starting forward again. She heard Alaric scramble behind her for a moment, before his steps became considerably quieter. The Warden rolled her eyes. Alaric was young even by human standards, probably only about twenty-four. He was obviously in over his head, but about as stubborn as they came, and, for some reason, she kind of liked him.

            _‘Pull yourself together, Warden, don’t go getting attached now,’_ she scolded herself mentally. She’d never taken on a companion before, and she didn’t particularly plan to now. Her life style wasn’t exactly conducive to the health needs of most species, let alone humans; and besides—she liked traveling alone.

            The Warden scanned the walls with her eyes as they walked along; looking for anything that might indicate the Raxaconian had been down here. So far, the whole place looked like any other sewer: damp and with more rats than the Warden would have preferred.

            They walked in silence for a good half hour without finding anything, and the Warden was starting to get aggravated. All she wanted to do was find the damn Raxaconian, get it somewhere where it wouldn’t hurt anymore people, and be on her merry way. But no, the damn thing had to go and be difficult to find; which, of course, made _sense_ , but that didn’t have to mean she _liked_ it, and…

            Wait. The Warden stopped walking, causing Alaric to run into her. She ignored him as he started whispering apologies to her, and moved around him to look at the bit of wall they’d just walked past.

            The very _dry_ bit of wall.

            The Warden reached out to touch it, and a wide grin split her face. “Oh, he’s _clever!_ ” she murmured, before stepping right through the wall, and completely disappearing from sight.

            Alaric stared where the Warden had been only seconds before with his jaw hanging open. The Warden stuck her head back through the wall after a moment. “You coming or not?” She asked, grinning, before disappearing again. Alaric swallowed, then stepped through the wall, feeling rather like Harry Potter.

            The Warden was surveying the tunnel on the other side when Alaric stepped through. “Perception filter,” she explained, not turning to look at him. “Made it look like there was a wall there, when really it was an opening into another branch of tunnels. Forgot about the water and slime that’s on the walls thought, so it stood out from the others.”

            Alaric nodded absently, thinking about how he would have never noticed had the Warden not pointed it out.

            “Right then! Onwards!” The Warden whispered, her cheerful mood seemingly back in place. They tip-toed down the tunnels, being more careful now that they knew they were going in the right direction, and the Raxaconian could be anywhere.

            Alaric’s nerves were starting to get to him at this point, and he was questioning the sanity behind his decision to accompany the Warden. While he was preoccupied with his thoughts, he tripped over a bit of uneven ground, and fell, landing with an almighty-clatter that reverberated throughout the tunnels.

            The Warden whipped around at the noise, her hand automatically going for the gun on her thigh. When she saw it was just Alaric on the ground, she sighed in exasperation. “You have to be more careful—” but she was cut off with a choking noise, and bit of blood dribbled down her lip before she fell over, dead.

            Alaric yelled as the Warden fell, and looked up to see what he assumed was the Raxaconian. It was over seven feet tall, and completely black; now that the Warden wasn’t holding up the torch, Alaric could barely make the creature out. What light there was shown off the alien’s long, terrifying claws, and was reflected in its lightning colored eyes.

            Alaric used his feet and one hand try to and scoot backward away from the monster, his other hand trying to free his gun from its holster. “P-p-please, don’t hurt me,” he stuttered pathetically, remembering what the Warden said about the creature being intelligent. “I j-j-just want to h-help…”

            The Raxaconian stalked forward towards Alaric, and Alaric could swear that a grin was spreading across its face, revealing several rows of sharp, jagged teeth. Apparently, the creature was in no mood to be helped, and Alaric wondered if his body would ever be found behind the false wall of the sewer.

            The Raxaconian moved its weight forward on its feet, apparently preparing to lunge for Alaric, but a loud noise made it jerk in pain, one of its arms falling limp at its side. The creature whirled around to come face-to-face with a rather annoyed looking Warden, her gun still smoking a bit.

            “Now then, is that anyway to treat guests?” She asked, her tone low.

Alaric gaped at her, not understanding how she was alive. “But…but…”

The Warden didn’t spare him a glance. “Not now, Alaric. So, Mr. Raxaconian, I understand you’ve been on a bit of a killing spree, eh?”

The Raxaconian made a series of threatening growls, clutching its lame arm with its good one.

The Warden nodded. “Yes, yes, I know they killed off your people. But that was a very long time ago, and doesn’t mean you can kill them all now. What good will it do you, anyway? You’re the last of your kind, yes? Thought so. Gives you the Clempari defense, good on you. But listen: an eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind. Sounds like rubbish, right? But it’s true. So let me take you off this planet, somewhere else, where you can’t hurt anyone else, and you don’t have to live with the stench of humans.”

The creature snarled some more, and Alaric got the distinct impression that the creature was refusing the Warden’s offer. As if to confirm Alaric’s suspicions, the Warden’s face darkened. “So be it. We’ll do this the hard way.”

The Warden fired another shot at the Raxaconian, then dove out of the way as it tried to swipe at her with its good arm. Turning a summersalt and coming up on one knee, the Warden fired into the Raxaconian’s remaining good arm, eliciting another howl of pain from the creature.

Alaric watched in terrified awe as the Warden jumped, rolled, and dodged her way around the enraged alien, pausing now and then to fire a shot into a leg or shoulder, until finally, the creature fell over, dark blood seeping from its wounds.

“Is it dead?” Alaric whispered after the last noises of the fight had died down.

The Warden shook her head. “No, he’s still alive. He needs medical help now, though. I’ll bring the TARDIS down here and heal him on board, the drop him off on another planet. Wait here and watch him, would you?” She didn’t wait for a response before she jogged off, leaving Alaric alone with the beast.

Alaric dragged himself away from the creature, and watched it from a distance. Injured or not, Alaric was still terrified. As he waited, Alaric’s mind raced with questions: How was the Warden alive? What was she? Where was she from?

After about twenty minutes—the Warden must have run the whole if she was back that quickly—there was a gust of wind in the otherwise still sewer, and a red door appeared on the wall next to the Raxaconian.

“Help me get him inside?” The Warden asked as she came out. Alaric walked over to her on shaky legs, and grabbed the feet of the –groaning and growling—Raxaconian. They carried him into the impossible room, down a hall, and into what looked like a miniature hospital. The Warden began to hook IV lines into the Raxaconian, and Alaric watched as it fell asleep.

“That should keep it quiet for a few hours, and start the healing process, as well. Now then! Which planet to put him on?” She left the room, leaving Alaric to scurry after her.

“I’m thinking something with forests, plenty of room for him to hunt. Or maybe a jungle planet! Fiercer competition in those, plenty to keep him occupied…” the Warden said cheerfully as she dashed around the center console, flipping buttons and pulling levers.

“What are you?” Alaric asked bluntly.

The Warden stopped and stared at him for a moment, all pretense of cheerfulness falling from her face as she considered him. “A long time ago, I was human. Now…” she shrugged.

“But I saw you die!” Alaric insisted.

The Warden sighed, and pulled off her now ruined leather jacket, examining the rips in the back. “Yeah, a shame, too. I liked this jacket.” Catching Alaric’s stern look—and resisting the urge to laugh, as the look was completely foreign on his face—she sighed. “I can’t die. Haven’t been able to for a while now. Every time something like that happens I just pop back up a few minutes later, good as new. And don’t bother asking how, it’s a very long story that I don’t plan on reliving any time soon,” she snapped, seeing the next question on his face.

The Warden turned back to the console and finished setting the location, before returning to the med bay. Alaric followed reluctantly behind her, his questions still not satisfied.

They carried the sleeping Raxaconian out into a very humid, heavily treed area, and set it in some bushes, before returning to the TARDIS. “He should wake up in a few hours completely healed. Probably completely enraged, too, but some things can’t be helped.”

She messed with the controls again for a moment, before smiling at Alaric. “Time to take you home, then. Unless…” she hesitated, then nodded to herself, her mind made up. “Unless, of course, you’d like to come with me?” She held her breath, waiting for his answer. She’d promised herself she’d never take a companion, and Alaric had been basically useless, but she liked him. He was stubborn and honest and shy, but stood up to her occasionally. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to travel with him for a while.

Alaric looked surprised, and hesitated, before shaking his head. “No. I don’t think I could ever get used to the kind of danger you seem to put yourself through. And I don’t bounce back like you do. I think I’m better off arresting drunks in New Miami,” he said apologetically.

The Warden deflated. _‘This is why you shouldn’t get your hopes up!’_ She snapped at herself before plastering a smile on her face. “Right then, I’ll just take you home.” She bounced around the console with her usual amount of energy.

Alaric felt bad as he watched her. She was nice, if terrifying, and he hated to turn her down, but he really didn’t want to die. “I’m sorry,” he said lamely, and winced at his own voice.

“Not a problem! And here we are! Off you go Alaric, have a good life!” The Warden said with false cheer, her eyes already distant.

Alaric hesitated, then started walking to the door. He paused with his hand on the handle, and turned to look at the Warden again. “You don’t have to pretend all the time, you know. To be happy, I mean.” He said softly. “You’re angry, or sad, or something. You shouldn’t have to hide it.”

The Warden smiled sadly at him. “Sometimes we wear masks, Alaric. Sometimes they’re to protect others, and sometimes they’re to protect ourselves. It’s best to just let them be.”

Alaric frowned, then sighed and nodded. “Right. Bye, then.” And with that he stepped outside. He looked at the busy streets around him, watching the smiling, laughing people as they walked around without a care in the world. Just as he was considering going back inside and telling the Warden he’s travel with her, he felt the wind pick up, and the red door was gone by the time he turned around.


	5. Chapter 4

            The Warden spent the next few weeks after Alaric’s refusal sulking; well, her version of sulking, that is. Sulking for the Warden was moving at a faster pace than normal, taking more risks, and, usually, dying more frequently. It was dangerous, even for someone like her: sometimes she forgot she was playing with other people’s lives, and not just her own. It was a close call on Siplein—in which she may or may not have caused a fire in an orphanage for the sake of a distraction—which reminded her of this, and forced her to return to her slightly slower, slightly safer, normal methods.

            And eventually the hurt of Alaric’s betrayal left her, or at least receded behind her carefully constructed mental walls, designed to keep anything painful safely locked in her subconscious, where they could only bother her when she slept. And not even then, really: since she usually worked herself to the point of collapse, she was too exhausted to even dream.

            And so, a few months after Raxacon, the Warden landed on the planet that would turn everything topsy-turvy. Again.

            It was an unassuming planet; it had been conquered and re-conquered so many times that it had a new name every year. The year that the Warden landed on it, it was called Melvin, named after the ruler of the concurring people. It was a bland year, boring really, only one big event, and the Warden wondered why her TARDIS had chosen this year to land in.

            Of course, what the Warden couldn’t possibly know was that the TARDIS had hoped that putting her Wolf in a boring location during a boring year, the girl would be able to take something of a break.

            Of course, what the TARDIS forgot was that, while this was a boring year on Melvin, it had a fixed point in time: the assassination of Martin, son of Melvin, was due to happen exactly three hours from when the Warden had landed.

            The Warden was not a Time Lord; she didn’t have any of the special timeline sensing powers that they had, and had no clue how to tell whether or not the events she was meddling with were fixed or not. Up until this point, she’d counted on her TARDIS to keep her away from anything potentially paradox-creating. Up until this point, it had worked.

            Of course, when these two messed up, they messed up big time.

            Paradoxes range in size from the woops-there-is-a-bunch-of-reapers-eating-my-town to-oh-look-a-hole-the-size-of-Belgium-spewing-reapers-and-eating-planets. The Warden’s first paradox had resulted from a common man being alive. Her second would come from the son of a dictator living and going on to bring two fifths of the universe under his control.

            Well, it would, except for the whole reapers and black hole the size of Belgium thing.

            As the Warden fired her gun at the man who was meant to kill Martin, she felt a brief moment of unease in the pit of her stomach, right before the bullet hit home between the mercenaries eyes (this was another moment when deadly action was “necessary”). She didn’t even get the chance to contemplate the unease before all hell broke loose.

            The universe seemed to shudder, and it didn’t take superior Time Lord senses to feel it. The Warden ran to a window and looked out, seeing a giant black hole ripping open in the normally silvery skies of Melvin.

            “What…?” the Warden murmured, her eyes widening in realization as the first reaper came out. “No…” she whispered in horror, backing away from the window before turning and running for all she was worth.

            The streets were pure chaos: people running every which way, pushing shoving screaming; anything to get away from the monsters. And the reapers themselves were feasting on the frightened people, swallowing three and four at a time. The Warden ran, ducked, and—she’s a bit ashamed of this part—fired her gun as she tried to make her way to her TARDIS. She couldn’t die, but she wasn’t sure what would happen if the reapers got a hold of her, and she didn’t particularly want to find out.

            Speaking of which, the reapers all seemed to be homing in on her, turning away from easier targets to chase after her. The Warden used every skill she had—speed, endurance, a bit of parkour—to keep ahead of the beasts. She could finally see the TARDIS in the distance, and practically rammed her key into the lock, throwing the door open.

            She was relieved when the impossible room was still on the other side. She still remembered, even though she didn’t want to, the panic that had come last time when she realized even the TARDIS couldn’t save them. She slammed the doors shut, and hoped the reapers wouldn’t be able to get through.

            The TARDIS seemed as terrified as the Warden, psychic waves of panic rolling off the machine and assaulting the Warden’s mind, making it hard to focus. The Warden moved closer to the center console, intending to soothe her ship and figure out how to stop the paradox that was destroying Melvin, when the TARDIS slammed the door shut and initiated the dematerialization sequence on her own.

            “What are you doing?!” The Warden screamed, running around the console frantically, trying to reverse the sequence so that they would go back. “We have to save them!”

            The screen of the TARDIS dinged, grabbing the Warden’s attention. She rushed over, and quickly read the information shown; her face paled. “No…” she whispered, then, almost a shout, “No!”

            The screen informed her that the universe as a whole was being sucked into the giant rip in the fabric of the space/time. Anything that wasn’t quite in reach of the hole yet was being ravaged by reapers. Nowhere was safe, and nothing had not been affected. At the bottom of the screen was a list of planets, galaxies, nebulas, everything, that had been completely consumed by the rip. The list gained a new name every second.

            “No…” the Warden whispered again, backing away from the screen, as if distance could make the whole thing go away. She looked for a moment like she might cry, and for a moment she was a nineteen year old girl, desperate to save her father. But then she squared her shoulders, and shoved her emotions away.

            “There must be some way to fix this. Someway to complete the events of the fixed point,” she said aloud. She tried to send the TARDIS back to Melvin, but the screen dinged again, and the Warden saw that Melvin was on the list of planets that no longer existed. There was no way to go to it now, past or present. The Warden deflated. “That’s it then…” she whispered, defeated.

A siren went off, and the TARDIS started to shake violently. The readout on the screen changed, showing that the universe was collapsing in on itself, crumpling like a paper ball. And there, where the universe was crumpling the worst, where tears in the fabric of reality.

“No…it’s not possible…” the Warden murmured, her hope returning as soon as it had left her. “Right! I’ll just go to the nearest planet, grab all the people I can. Planet hop until the last minute, then take all the survivors I can through one of the tears. We’ll cut it close, but that’s nothing new, eh Old Girl?” The Warden ran around the center console, flicking switches with a new fervor that she had never experienced before.

But the TARDIS wasn’t responding. Not mentally, and not physically. The Warden was attempting to pilot the ship, but the ship wasn’t moving. Not, until, finally, the ship lurched _away_ from any planets and _towards_ the rips that would lead to another universe.

“What are you doing?!” the Warden screamed furiously, trying everything to get her ship to go back. “We have to save them! WE HAVE TO SAVE THEM!” The Warden was crying now, but she hadn’t given up yet; she was still trying to take control from her errant ship. “Someone, anyone, just let me save someone!” She pleaded, the rip in the universe drawing closer every second. “Alaric, let me save Alaric, please!” She begged, tears streaming down her face.

The TARDIS didn’t respond, only kept flying towards the only thing that she knew would keep her and her Wolf safe. That was all she cared about: getting her Wolf to safety.

The Warden ran to the door, and tried to escape that way. She didn’t know how being immobile in the airless vacuum of space would help, but she had to try _something_. But the door wouldn’t budge, and she banged on it angrily, sobbing now. “Please…please…” she whimpered, sliding down the door to sit slumped on the floor. There was silence in the control room. The Cloister bell started to toll, and the Warden felt the violent shaking that marked the exit from one universe and the entrance into another as the TARDIS fell through the crack.

The Warden was tossed around the room, and grunted in pain as she landed here and there, before everything finally stopped and went still.

She made no move to pick herself up from where she had fallen, instead choosing to stare blankly at a wall as the tears dried on her face. The TARDIS tried to push comforting thoughts into her Wolf, or at least an apology, but they were all met with a brick wall.

For hours the Warden lay there, not moving or talking or even communicating with her beloved ship. And when she did finally speak, it was low and horse and filled with more pain than any one person should ever have to bear: “I killed them. An entire universe and I killed them all.”


	6. Chapter 5

It was like the death of John all over again; the Warden simply stopped. She stayed in her room on the TARDIS and refused to leave. The TARDIS, of course, tried to ease the Warden’s guilt by pushing the idea that it was really the TARDIS’ fault that everyone had died. When that didn’t work, she settled for radiating thoughts of love and comfort towards her Wolf; but the Warden couldn’t be comforted.  She died three times of dehydration and once of starvation. She also died about six times from blood loss, but that came towards the end of her confinement to the TARDIS.

It took a while, but eventually, the Warden began to move again. She shuffled around the TARDIS, crying occasionally, but mostly working on building her walls back up around her painful memories. When she had realized just what she had done, her walls had come down and she had relived every painful memory ever. Now that they were back in place, the Warden was beginning to act more like herself. She was different, of course. There had been sadness and loss in her eyes before, but now it was magnified; somehow, the look in her eyes made her look more her age than she had before.

One of the first things the Warden decided when she was functioning properly again was that she would no longer use the name “The Warden.” She’d failed in her job of protecting the people, and thus she would abandon the name. She went nameless for several days, trying to think of a new one that would reflect what she was now; however, names like “The Murderer” or “The Reaper” wouldn’t exactly encourage people to trust her. Not that she planned to have much contact with people, but still, it would probably happen every so often.

She still planned to travel the universe and help out where she could; she didn’t know what else to do with her life. But she was going to do it right this time: stick to the shadows, do everything behind the scenes, don’t bring anyone else into it. And always, always, check with the TARDIS beforehand to make sure that there were no fixed points in time wherever she landed.

She eventually decided to go by Bad Wolf again. The name felt like a stab in the gut every time she heard it, but she felt as if she deserved that pain, so she accepted it and moved on.

It was still a few days after her name decision before Bad Wolf started traveling again; she needed a few days to actually eat and drink and get her strength back. Finally, stroking the console of the TARDIS softly, she set the controls to random, and waited for her ship take her to where she need to be.

Of course, the stars all chose that moment to explode.

Suddenly the cloister bell was tolling, and the TARDIS was hurdling through space, trying to avoid the shockwaves of the Supernovas. “GO GO GO!” Wolf screamed, racing around the controls, trying to help her ship (because, as she realized, the TARDIS did not really need to be piloted. She went where she wanted) get to some safe space.

Wolf was at the monitor, typing furiously, scanning the universe for someplace unaffected. “Earth!” she yelled, and started the dematerialization sequence. Just as the last of the TARDIS disappeared from space, a shock wave caught her, so that when she rematerialized on Earth, she was knocked over on her side.

Wolf groaned from her position in the jump seat; she had managed to grab hold of it before her ship fell over, and now she was staring up at the only door out. To make matters worse, the TARDIS console was sparking and smoking, small fires around the room. Wolf got the feeling she would be getting a new desktop soon.

It took some work, but eventually, Wolf managed to climb up to the door, and crawl out of the TARDIS. She rolled over onto her side, breathing heavy from the climb, and was met face to face with the tip of a Roman short sword. “I can’t catch a break…” she muttered, before following the blade of the sword up to the arm, and then face, of its owner.

It was a Roman centurion, tall with sandy blonde hair, and a very confused expression his face. “Hi, don’t suppose you could get the sword out of my face, could ya? Thanks,” Wolf said, pushing the blade aside as she pulled herself into a sitting position.

The centurion dropped into a kneeling position. “Lady Fortuna,” he squawked. Wolf raised an eyebrow. She’d forgotten about those statues…oh, wait. If he thought she was Fortuna then that meant… “Oh for the love of--!” She snapped, standing up and pacing furiously. The Centurion, meanwhile, had stood up again, and was looking confused and annoyed with himself.

Wolf, meanwhile, was still muttering to herself angrily. “Of all the universes in all the multiverse and I had to go and fall into this one! Spent all that time with a dimension cannon all those years ago trying to get here, and this time I get it on the first try! Didn’t even want to come here! Gshanti m’reet lathen to pasi…” she began cursing in alien languages, completely furious, and, if she was honest with herself, panicking.

Because there was no way she could ever face the Doctor. Not after all she’d done, not after all she’d lost. It would hurt, first of all, seeing the man whom she had once been in love with, and who still bore the face of the man she had married and lost. Then there was the anger she would no doubt face when he found out about all the people she’d killed—and he would find out, he was good at that. He would hate her, try to imprison her. Or worse, he would just look at her with eyes filled with disappointment before walking away from her.

Wolf thought that that might actually kill her.

The Centurion coughed, and Wolf almost jumped out of her skin, having forgotten he was there. “I’m sorry, universe? Multiverse? Dimension cannon?” He asked, raising an eyebrow so that it was hidden beneath his helmet. Wolf winced; early first century, she could see how those words wouldn’t make sense to a Roman soldier. She opened her mouth to explain, but didn’t get the chance. “Do you know the Doctor?” The centurion asked, still watching her warily.

Wolf blinked once, twice, the spun on her heal and tried to open the doors to the TARDIS. The door wouldn’t budge, though, and Wolf remembered that she was fixing herself. Wolf sighed, and turned back to the centurion, who had raised his sword again.

“Yes, I knew him. Once. A long time ago. Not anymore, and I’m not exactly keen to run into him,” she explained, aggravation coloring her tone.

“Why?” The centurion asked, glaring at her.

“Because so far as he knows, I’m dead, and I’d like to keep it that way. Now, put the sword down and tell me your name so I can stop calling you the Centurion in my head,” she snapped, not in any mood to deal with some idiot with a sword. She wondered idly why he wasn’t bowing and doing everything she said—he had called her Fortuna.

The centurion hesitated a moment, before returning his sword to its sheaf; he kept his hand on it though, Wolf noted with some exasperation. “I’m Rory,” he said finally.

Wolf raised an eyebrow. “That’s not a Roman name,” she pointed out.

“I’m not Roman,” Rory countered. “And you’re not Fortuna. So who are you?”

“Technically, those statues are modeled after me,” Wolf paused for a moment. If this was the Doctor’s universe, then she couldn’t go around calling herself Bad Wolf; with the way her luck had been lately, it would get back to him. “Ah, this is the Roman Empire, right? Let’s go with…Larentia,” she decided. _‘I am really burning through the names lately’_ she thought to herself wryly.

Rory raised an eyebrow skeptically. “The she-wolf that nursed Remus and Romulus?”

Larentia smiled serenely. “And you said you weren’t Roman. So, what’s the story, how do you know the Doctor and is he coming back here anytime soon?” She asked with forced cheer.

If Rory found her tone peculiar, he decided not to comment. “I…traveled with him. Him and my fiancé, Amy. But there was an accident, and now Amy’s dead and locked in a box that’s supposed to bring her back to life in about two thousand years. The Doctor jumped ahead to when that will happen, but I decided to stay back and guard Amy,” Rory said, starting out slow, but then saying it all in a rush, like he could hardly believe it himself.

Larentia blinked. “You realize you’ll die of old age long before Amy comes out of that box. Which, by the way, makes so little sense I’m not even going to question it.”

Rory sighed and rubbed his forehead, finally removing his hand from his sword. “There was an…accident…” he muttered.

“There seem to have been a lot of accidents,” Larentia commented nonchalantly, trying to hide her curiosity. Was he like her, too? Could someone else be stuck with the same curse she and Jack (with a pang she realized she was now in the same universe as Jack as well. She had missed him so much…) had to bear?

Rory let out a humorless chuckle. “Yeah. Tell me about it. C’mon, I’ll tell you the story; I don’t like to be away from Amy this long,” he muttered, turning and leading her towards what looked like Stonehenge. It seemed like Rory had decided to trust her. _‘Don’t!’_ she wanted to scream at him. _‘Never trust me, never!’_

As they walked to Stonehenge, and then under it—which through Larentia off for a moment—Rory told her about his, Amy, and the Doctor’s encounter with the Slilurians and his consequent death, followed by him waking up a Roman soldier only to find out—Surprise!—he was a Nestene Consciousness dummy.

Larentia winced. “And here I thought I was having a bad day,” she said in sympathy, then turned to examine the box, or, Pandorica, as Rory had called it.

“And then the stars went out…” she murmured. She wondered how the Doctor could possible fix this one. She also wondered why reapers weren’t attacking everything, but decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Yeah,” Rory said tiredly, sitting down against the box. Larentia sat next to him, and the two sat in silence for a time, staring at the petrified aliens that had technically never existed all around them. “So what’s your story?” Rory asked finally, turning to glance at her.

Larentia tensed. “…My ship got caught in the blast of the stars exploding, and I crash landed here. I’m just waiting for my ship to repair herself, then I’m off,” she said finally, going with the truth, just not the whole story.

“Are you a Time Lord? Lady? I don’t know the correct terminology…” Rory trailed off, but watched Larentia intently.

She shook her head with a sad smile. “No, I’m not. The Doctor is still alone.”

“But you have a TARDIS,” Rory pointed out, then rolled his eyes when Larentia looked surprised. “You climbed out of a door that was just lying on the ground, and smoke came out, too. Obviously bigger on the inside, what else is like that?” Rory asked matter-of-factly.

Larentia laughed, surprised both by Rory’s observation and the sound of her own laugh, which kind of sounded like nails on a chalkboard from disuse. She winced, then shook her head. “Yeah, she’s a TARDIS. Last time I saw the Doctor, he gave me a piece of the TARDIS coral, and I grew mine from that,” she explained.

“I didn’t know that was possible,” Rory murmured, staring away again.

“Me neither,” Larentia answered. The two lapsed into silence again, and Larentia nodded off for a while. She was awoken by a burning pain in her side. “Ow!” She muttered, jerking herself awake—and nearly scaring Rory out of his plastic in the process—and fished her TARDIS key out of her back pocket. “Ah-hah! She’s done!” Larentia jumped up to leave, then hesitated, looking back down at Rory. “I’ll visit you. Can’t stay with you, for obvious reasons,” it wouldn’t hurt him to not know about her inability to age, “but I’ll jump ahead and visit you,” she promised.

Rory shook his head. “You don’t have to.”

Larentia smiled slightly. “I know. But no one deserves to be alone for as long as you will be,” she said sadly, thinking of her own time alone. It paled in comparison to what Rory was about to go through. “I’ll be back,” she promised again, her tone firm, before running off.


	7. Chapter6

            Larentia kept her promise to Rory; she made sure to visit him at least once a decade, and usually more often than that. Really, since Earth was the only planet left, she didn’t have much to do anyway. She didn’t even have all of Earth’s history to explore: everything just sort of ended in 1998, and Larentia made sure to stay away from there, because she was sure that was where the Doctor was.

            Larentia also hadn’t been to Earth in four and half centuries, since she was trying to avoid memories. Being back on her native planet…well, she needed all the distractions she could get. So she made frequent trips to Rory, which actually usually worked out well for the Centurion, as Larentia had a knack for showing up just as a bear decided he would make a good chew toy, or somehow he managed to catch the _stone cave_ on fire. Really, the poor boy was an accident waiting to happen. But they were working on it: Larentia was helping him to learn how to use the gun implanted in his hand, which often was a lot easier than his sword—especially when dealing with bears.

            “How you attract so many bears, I’ll never know,” Larentia said to him one day, after they’d managed to scare the bears off (she’d adopted a strict “Kill no living thing” policy), and were sitting down against the Pandorica.

            “I’m more confused about how I manage to set the cave on fire so often,” Rory muttered.

            This was still pretty early on in their tentative friendship, and neither really knew how to deal with the other.

            Larentia was extremely out of practice when it came to dealing with people, and Rory wouldn’t let her get away with the half mad cheerful attitude she usually put on when she interacted with other living creatures.

            Rory, for his part, was continuously confused by the enigmatic woman who just randomly appeared. He still accidentally called her Fortuna sometimes (though, later, he would call her it on purpose just to tick her off), and there would be times when he’d ask what he thought was a simple question, and she’d just shut down.

            They were still working out their limits with each other, and making very little headway.

            “So how long had it been since the last time I was here?” Larentia asked after a moments silence.

            “About thirteen years,” Rory sighed, sounding tired; which was odd, as he couldn’t sleep.

            “How’re you holding up?” Larentia asked, turning to glance at him.

            Rory chuckled humorlessly. “As well as can be expected. It’s been about a century and a half so far, and I’m still mostly sane, so there’s that, at least.”

            Larentia nodded sympathetically. “You’ll get used to it eventually; the time will start to pass more quickly,” she said without thinking.

            Rory looked at her, one eyebrow raised. “You talk as if you have firsthand experience,” it sounded like a statement, but Larentia knew it was a question.

            She managed a laugh, and shook her head. “Something I heard the Doctor say,” she said off-handedly.

            Rory shook his head. “You only laugh when you’re lying,” he pointed out.

            Larentia fell silent, then stood up and walked into her TARDIS.

            Rory sighed as the wind created by the TARDIS’ departure kicked up dust in the underground room. This was how most of Larentia’s visits ended: Rory would ask a question or make a statement, and Larentia would just leave, and never speak of it again. Rory was quickly learning that anything involving Larentia’s past was taboo.

            Larentia came again about eight years later, and this time Rory wasn’t under attack, which was a nice change.

            Rory wasn’t in the room with the Pandorica, so Larentia went up to Stonehenge proper, and found him staring at the empty sky. “’S weird, you know, not seeing any stars. You’d think I’d be used to it by now, but…” he shook his head, and turned to look at her. “So are you going to disappear every time I mention something you don’t like?” He asked. Larentia remained silent. “Thought so,” he said, turning back to star at the sky.

            Larentia watched him curiously. He hadn’t sounded mad, simply accepting. “You put up with a lot. Not just me, but from the Doctor and Amy, too. The Doctor’s the one who got you into this mess, and now you’re going to spend the next two thousand years guarding the box holding Amy,” Larentia observed. Rory turned to face her, raising an eyebrow that seemed to ask _‘Yeah, and your point?’_ “How do you do it? You don’t seem bitter, or angry, or anything. I don’t understand,” Larentia admitted. It was something she’d been curious about for a long time, but hadn’t ever asked.

            Rory looked away, thinking. “I think…with Amy, I’ve always waited for her. D’you know she spent most of our lives thinking I was gay? I’d been in love with her for years, but didn’t think she felt the same way. I had been just content to love her in secret and be her friend. ‘Course, then a friend asked why we weren’t together and I found out she thought I was gay. We started dating after that, but she was always sort of…hesitant. Amy’s not very good with dealing with her feelings. But then she agreed to marry me, and I thought everything was going to be perfect, at last.” Rory was staring off into the distance now, seeing things Larentia couldn’t.

            “Then I come to find out she’d run away the night before our wedding with the Doctor. The night before our wedding,” Rory shook his head. “I got kind of mad then, I’m not going to lie. But…she was so happy, and she still wanted me to be with her, so I came. And then she chose me over the Doctor, and I was back to thinking everything would be perfect. Then I died and became a Roman, but she still came back. And even though I technically didn’t exist, she managed to remember me. And then I killed her.” Rory fell silent again.

            “I’ve always loved Amy, and she loves me. I’ll always wait for her, I don’t care how long,” he said finally, his voice firm. “And as for the Doctor…He does his best, he really does. He got us into this, sure, but he’s also the guy finding the way out. And Amy and I are closer for traveling with him. So, I guess, I can’t really be mad at him,” Rory finished, looking back at Larentia.

            She shook her head. “You’re too good of a person,” she said with a half-smile.

            Rory shrugged. “Yeah, well.”

            They lapsed into silence, Larentia thinking.

            “I used to date this bloke, Mickey. We were great at first, neither of us very ambitious, honestly. Course, when I…started traveling, he spent most of his time waiting for me. He was always so bitter about it…I s’pose he had a right, I did just up and leave him to go traveling with some alien bloke I’d just met, but…I dunno, it drove us apart. We finally broke up when he told me he’d been seeing another girl, then followed it up asking me if I wanted to get a hotel room.” Larentia shook her head, the corners of her lips turned up ever so slightly. “Haven’t seen him in years…wonder what happened to him…” she trailed off. Her story didn’t have much of a point, but Rory had shared with her and she wanted to share something with him, as well. It wasn’t something nearly as personal as Rory’s story, but it was a memory that wasn’t overly painful, and that was the best she could do.

            Rory had been watching her cautiously throughout the short speech, wondering if she was going to suddenly leave again. But she stayed where she was, and Rory took it as a sign of progress. The woman next to him had been hurt in ways he hadn’t even begun to understand, and the nurse in him, that part that wanted to help people, wanted to help her feel better. But it was hard to help someone when they won’t let anyone in.

            Over the next few centuries, Rory would share some story or bit of information about his life, and Larentia would respond with something inconsequential, but she was trying, at least. There were a few times when Rory had thought they were making progress, such as when Larentia had admitted that she used to be married. But she’d barely finished telling him that, just the one sentence, before she was rushing back into her TARDIS.

            But other than the persisting mystery when it came to Larentia’s past, the two had become friends. Rory had actually gotten her to laugh (without lying) a few times, and he secretly counted those as victories. Something about her reminded him of Amy, and so he always looked forward to their visits.

            Larentia visited him when he as about two thirds of the way through his wait; the Pandorica had been discovered and moved into one of King William III’s rooms in Kensington Palace. Larentia wasn’t entirely sure how he’d managed it, but Rory was still guarding the Pandorica, and still in his Roman gear.

            Larentia stepped out of the TARDIS, and tossed some new clothes to Rory. “Time to trade out the old for the new again. Yours are starting to fall apart,” she said by way of greeting. She’d fallen into the habit of bringing Rory new (Roman) clothes every so often so that his own wouldn’t disintegrate.

            “Thanks, Fortuna,” Rory said, smiling wryly at Larentia as he caught the closthes she’d tossed him.

            Larentia made a face and stuck her tongue out at him. “Anything new lately?” she asked, plopping down onto a solid gold throne and crossing her legs. There were all sorts of treasure hidden in this room, but she really wished they’d think to throw in a couple of comfy chairs.

            Rory shook his head. “King Billy’s here with pneumonia, but that’s about it. No attacks, no one trying to steal the box, it’s been pretty quiet.”

            Larentia nodded. “Good, quiet is good. At least no bears!”

            “Or fire,” Rory added with a small smile.

            Rory watched Larentia; the past few times she’d visited, she looked as if she’d been trying to work up the nerve to say something, but never quite managed to do it. He wondered if she’d tell him whatever it was that was on her mind this time.

            Larentia eventually sighed, then smiled crookedly at Rory. “So, almost done. Just a few more centuries to go. How’re you holding up?”

            This too was customary of Larentia’s visits: she always asked how Rory was doing, how he was handling his unnatural longevity. Rory’s answer remained largely unchanged. “Alright,” he shrugged. Larentia nodded, accepting this with the knowledge that he would talk to her about it when and if he was ready.

            “Larentia, how long has it been since you met me?” Rory asked curiously after a moment.

            Larentia blinked, surprised. “Um, I don’t know,” she lied, “Why?”

            Rory shrugged, looking a bit uncomfortable. “Well, it’s just odd. For me, I mean. I’ve gone through so many years now, and you never change. Which, I mean I realize, is because you have a time machine. But still, I know you aren’t always with me, and yet you don’t look any older. So I was just wondering how long it had been for you.”

            Larentia stared at him, chewing on her lip, fighting the impulse to get in her TARDIS and flee. But she’d been so alone for so long…She nodded, making up her mind. “It’s been three hundred years since I met you,” she said, looking him dead in the eye.

            Rory wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that. “Um…huh?” he managed to ask, trying to wrap his brain around what was happening.

            Larentia sighed, and rubbed her forehead. “I can’t…age. I mean I do, a little, every few hundred years or so, but I’ve only aged about three years in the last eight hundred,” she explained, the weariness that came from living as long as she had and seeing as much as she had creeping into her voice.

            “But…how…” Rory trailed off when he saw Larentia’s eyes slide towards the TARDIS. “Doesn’t matter, I guess,” he said, backpedaling hastily, trying to keep her from running away. “It’s just…why didn’t you tell me?”

            Larentia started chewing on her lip again. “I’ve…been used to keeping secrets for a very long time now. There are certain events in my life I don’t like to think of, and the knowledge that I can’t age usually raises questions that lead to that information,” she explained carefully. She’d decided to leave out the part where she couldn’t die; she didn’t want to freak him out too much right now.

            Rory nodded quietly, looking at the floor. “Well, I guess I’m glad you told me. You need to trust more people;” he added seriously, glancing up at her.

            The ghost of a smirk crossed Larentia’s face. “I haven’t trust anyone in a very, very long time,” she said, her tone light but a bit of bitterness seeping through. She made her farewells, then slipped back into the TARDIS to go get some prohibition era moonshine.


	8. Chapter 7

            Rory grunted as he pulled on the rope tied around the Pandorica, ignoring the blistering heat all around that threatened to melt him. It was the height of the London blitz, and the warehouse where his precious Amy was being held in her box had caught fire in one of the explosions. Fire was one of the most dangerous things to Rory, being that he was made entirely from plastic. But he had to get Amy out of there, he had too…

            “Always the fire with you, isn’t it?” A familiar voice said behind him, and he felt someone else pulling on the rope. “I suppose I should just be glad it’s not bears.”

            Rory turned, not letting go of the rope. “Larentia!” he said, sounding surprised. She flashed him a cheeky grin. “At your service!”

            Together the two of them worked to pull the Pandorica from the burning building, only just barely making it out before the building collapsed. They continued to pull the box until it was safe distance away from the inferno that was London, before they both collapsed to the ground, relived and exhausted.

            Larentia looked at Rory and winced. “Your face has gone all droopy from the heat,” she told him, reaching out to poke the still soft plastic that was Rory’s cheek.

            Rory reached up and felt it as well, making a face and sighing. “And I almost made it through the whole two thousand years unscathed, too,” he muttered.

            Larentia stood, and held out a hand to Rory to help him stand. “C’mon, I’ll fix you up. Can’t have Amy seeing you with your chin down next to your knees, now can we?” She led him a short distance away to where she’d parked her TARDIS. She went inside and Rory hesitated a moment before following her; this was the first time he’d gone inside her TARDIS.

            The inside was much different than the Doctor’s: his had been all chrome and glass, but Larentia’s was…golden. The console, the floor, the walls, the ceiling, all were golden with bits of red thrown in. Larentia paused, seeing Rory staring around, and made a face. “Yeah, I know, it’s a bit much. She went all gaudy on me last time she changed the desktop,” she made a face as she looked around. “Personally I think it’s because we got into a little spat over the Harry Potter books; she likes Gryffindor, I prefer Slytherin,” she shrugged. “C’mon then, this way!”

            Rory shook his head and followed her down a—thankfully—more neutral hallway and into what he recognized as the med bay. “Have a seat, I just gotta find the…” she trailed off, before holding up a capsule in triumph. “Nanogenes!” she crowed, before going over to Rory. “Right, these should fix you right up, just gotta program them to Nestene Consciousness dummy…”

            “Oi!” Rory protested at the use of the word dummy.

            Larentia looked up to grin at him before looking back down at the capsule. “Alright, here we go!” She twisted the capsule open, and thousands of little golden lights swarmed out and onto Rory, who jumped. “Just hold still, they’ll be done in a jiff,” Larentia said, leaning back on a counter and watching at the nanogenes fixed all of the parts of Rory that had been damaged in the blaze. They finished their work in record time and flew back into the capsule Larentia was carrying.

            Rory felt his face, and shook his head with a small smile. “You think I’d be used to this by now,” he muttered. Larentia laughed quietly, turning to put the nanogenes away. As she turned, Rory caught sight of a nasty looking burn on the back of her arm. “Oi, what about you? You’ve got one on your arm there,” Rory frowned, motioning to her arm.

            Larentia glanced at it and shrugged. “It’ll heal on its own,” she said simply, putting the nanogenes away. Rory stood up and grabbed her wrist so that he could look at the burn, ignoring her words of protest as his nurse side came out. “This is a third degree burn, it’ll get infected if you don’t treat it,” he informed her seriously.

            Larentia pulled her arm away, glaring at Rory. “I’ll be fine, _mum_ , let it be!” She snapped, getting strangely, in Rory’s opinion, aggravated over such a small thing.

            “I don’t understand; you have those nano-whatevers, why not just use them?” He persisted, glaring right back at her.

            Larentia closed her eyes and counted to ten. “Because. I like to keep injuries like these. They remind me I’m human. Or I was. Or something.” She said at last, turning and walking away from the med bay.

            Rory trailed after her. “Is this about the not aging thing?” he asked hesitantly. She’d visited him several times since that revelation, but they hadn’t spoken of it.

            Larentia sighed. “Yeah. It’s about that.” She muttered, messing with the console absent mindedly.

            “So you don’t age, you’re still human,” Rory pointed out, trying to be helpful.

            “It’s not just that Rory, I can’t…I can’t die, either,” she turned to face him, and Rory once again saw the full weight of her age in her eyes.

            “What do you mean?” he asked carefully. She seemed to be talking about more than just not being able to die of old age.

            “I mean I’ve been shot, beheaded, disemboweled, starved, dehydrated, frozen, burnt, suffocated, bled out, and drowned, and I just keep coming back,” she said flatly, all emotion gone from her face.

            Rory took a moment to absorb this, trying not to show the extent of his shock on his face and scare her off. “Well…” he trailed off, not sure how to finish the statement.

            Larentia saved him the trouble. “That’s why I keep injuries like these,” she gestured to her arm, “to remind myself I’m not completely infallible, and that some part of me, no matter how small, is still human.”

            Rory rubbed his face. “This has been a long day,” he said at last, startling a chuckle from Larentia.

            “You didn’t think to get her out of London before the blitz started?” She teased, glad for the change in topic.

            “Oi, you try convincing people to move the impenetrable giant box while you’re dressed like a Roman and tell me how much luck you have!” He grinned as he said it, taking the bite from his words.

            They both laughed, before letting a companionable silence take over. “You’re almost done, Rory,” Larentia said softly, before smiling sadly. “I think I’ll miss you when this is all done and over with.”

            Rory frowned. “What, you’re not going to see me after the Doctor fixes everything?”

            Larentia shook her head. “You’ll most likely keep traveling with the Doctor and I…I don’t think I could handle seeing him again,” ‘ _nor could I handle telling him what I did’_ she added silently. “You can’t tell the Doctor about me, Rory,” she added, looking him in the eye. “He always goes on and on about how clever he is right before he does something stupid, but he really is that smart. I can’t…I can’t risk him figuring out who I am. So you can’t tell him about me, okay?” she pleaded.

            Rory hesitated, then nodded. “Alright, yeah I won’t mention you. But Larentia,” he paused, then continued, “whatever it was that happened between you and the Doctor, you need to work it out someday. Otherwise, you’re never going to heal.”

            Larentia smiled the smile that Rory always knew was fake. “Yeah, maybe someday,” she lied. Rory didn’t even bother to call her on it.

            She dropped him off near the Pandorica, then went on her way.

            She continued to visit him once a decade or so up until 1998, though she tried to put as much time in between the visits as possible. The universe, what was left of it, anyway, was shrinking though, so eventually she ended up in the very last place she wanted to be: 1998.

            She landed in the museum where Rory worked and the Pandorica was on display, deciding to say goodbye to Rory before hightailing it to the other side of the Earth. She couldn’t leave this time zone anymore, but at least she could try to put some physical distance between herself and the Doctor.

            Rory was waiting outside the red door when she stepped out, and she immediately hugged him.

            Surprised, Rory returned the embrace. “This is new,” he commented. Larentia hadn’t ever been one for physical affection.

            She stepped back with a quiet chuckle. “I just wanted to stop by and say goodbye, Rory,” she said, smiling sadly, but with a hint of pride in her eyes. “You did it. All one thousand eight hundred and ninety-six years. You did it!” She grinned.

            Rory looked thunderstruck. “What, it happens today?” He asked, his voice sounding slightly squeaky.

            Larentia bit back a laugh and nodded. “Today is the day you get to see Amy again.”

            “Oh. Oh. _Oh_.” He muttered, apparently incapable of saying anything else. He looked down at himself. “I’m dressed as a night guard,” he pointed out, sounding panicky.

            “Rory, Rory, look at me, calm down,” Larentia said sharply, grabbing his face and pulling him down so that he was on eyelevel with her significantly shorter self. “You’ll be fine. She’s going to take one look at you and, night guard or no, snog you within an inch of your very long life. Got it?” Rory nodded mutely. “Good,” she smiled, and let his face go. Rory rubbed his cheeks with a grimace.

            “You’re stronger than you look,” he muttered.

            They both heard something at the other end of the museum. Rory looked panicked again. “That’s where Amy is,” he breathed.

            “Then go, you numpty! Two thousand years, you should already be there!” She ordered.

            Rory nodded, turned to leave, turned back, and hugged Larentia again. “I’ll miss you, Fortuna,” he grinned.

            Larentia rolled her eyes, but smiled, her tongue getting caught between her teeth. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll miss you, too, Centurion,” she raised her eyebrows at the name that mythology had granted him. “Now go to your fiancé; if she’s anything like you, she’s already gotten herself into trouble!”

            Rory nodded and, with one last wave, ran off.

            Larentia smiled sadly as he left; she would miss him.

            She went to go back into her TARDIS, but hesitated. Surely it wouldn’t hurt just to make sure he got there okay, right? The poor boy did have knack for getting himself in trouble…

            She silently made her ways down the halls over to where the Pandorica was being kept. She glanced around the corner, and smiled when she saw Rory and a redhead, who she assumed was Amy, snogging rather passionately. A man in a bow tie with floppy brown hair was circling them, looking annoyed and a bit worried. There was also a small red headed child, who told bow-tie man that she was thirsty.

            “Oh, it’s all about mouths today, isn’t it!”

            Larentia froze. It was a different voice coming from a different mouth on a different face from a different body, but she would recognize that sarcasm anywhere.

            It was the Doctor.

            As if he had heard her startled thoughts, the Doctor looked up, frowning, and looked towards the corner where Larentia was hiding. She quickly pulled back out of sight, her heart pounding.

            “Jack, is that you? What in the hell are you doing here?” the Doctor called, sounding surprised, but a bit pleased.

            Jack? Why would he think she was Jack? What would Jack…oh. Could he sense her? Because she couldn’t die, could he sense her? The only other person he knew that couldn’t die was Jack, so if he sensed her, and her, her, _wrongness_ , he would just assume she was Jack, right?

            Her racing thoughts were caught short by the sound of footsteps coming towards her.

            “Doctor, where are you going? Who’s Jack?” A feminine voice with a Scottish lilt called.

            _‘No no no no, not here, not now, not like this!’_ Larentia thought to herself with horror.

            The footsteps were coming closer, and the Doctor was still calling to Jack. Larentia panicked for only a moment before turning and running as fast as her legs could carry her. She could hear the Doctor beginning to run behind her, but she was sure that she was far enough head that he wouldn’t be able to see her. _‘Gotta get to the TARDIS, gotta get to the TARDIS!’_ she repeated to herself as she ran, cursing herself for parking on the far side of the museum.

            “Wait!” the Doctor called from behind her, closer than she’d thought, but still not close enough to see her properly in the shadows of the museum.

            Larentia poured on the speed, throwing herself into the TARDIS and up to the controls. She didn’t have enough time to activate the dematerialization sequence, so she turned on the cloaking device, turning the TARDIS invisible. She quickly disconnected then reconnected some wires to her monitor, hit it, and watched as the screen showed her what was happening outside. She prayed that the TARDIS would be able to keep the Doctor from sensing her. He showed up on her screen, and Larentia’s breath caught.

            His sense of fashion was ridiculous as ever, and she wondered if he’d ever injured someone with that chin, but she could still see her Doctor in him: old eyes, curious expression. He was still there.

            He looked around for a few moments, before a noise back the way he’d come caught his attention, and he ran back.

            Larentia let out a sigh that turned into a sob. The Doctor was gone. _Her_ Doctor was gone. The last bit she had left of John was gone with that face. She fell to the ground, finally properly mourning for the husband she’d lost so many years ago.

 

            Meanwhile, the Doctor sat up with gasp on the TARDIS. “Oh, I survived! Brilliant, I love it when I do that,” he muttered, looking around. It was then that he noticed himself and Amy up near the console, talking, and realized that he was going back through his life as he was wiped from history. He tried to call to Amy, and she started, like she’d heard him, but didn’t look at him.

            Then he was back in the treeborg forest on board the Byzantium. He quickly found Amy, and tried to get her to remember what he’d told her when she was seven.

            Back again, this time to Amy’s house when he’d first met her. And there she was, asleep in her yard, waiting for him. He felt a pang of guilt at that, and carried her up into her room. He sat next to her bed, and told her all about the TARDIS and how he’d borrowed—stole—it, about the wondrous things he’d seen, about the color…

            He was starting to get used to the feeling of being pulled back, and so he kissed Pond’s forehead. “Live well, love Rory,” he whispered.

            Then he was on a snowy street. It was dark, and a quick glance around told him he was in the Powell Estate. He turned so fast he felt something in his neck pop, but it didn’t matter, because there was Rose. He smiled, even as his dying younger self talked to her.

            But then he frowned, noticing something he’d been too sick to notice the first time ‘round: a crawling up his spine, a feeling of general _wrongness_. Jack? Again?

            He turned toward the source and stopped breathing. Her hair was longer now, and it’s natural brunette, but there was no mistaking the girl hiding behind a building, her eyes locked on his tenth incarnation with tears streaming down her face. It was Rose. His Rose. Older, but somehow still the same…

            “No…” he whispered, realizing she was what felt _wrong_. “No, oh Rose…” he whispered, moving closer to her. She stared right through him, and the Doctor could feel his time here coming to a close.

            “I’ll find you,” he promised to the deaf Rose, even as she turned away. “I’ll find you!”

            _‘C’mon, Pond, I need you to remember!’_


	9. Chapter 8

            Larentia blinked, and rubbed her head. “That was weird…” she muttered. She’d only just managed to pull herself together after her bout of crying when the TARDIS has shuddered, and thrown her over. She stood and checked the scanner, checked it again, hit it once (eliciting an angry spark from the TARDIS), then let out a startled laugh. “He fixed it…” she murmured. According to her scanner, she and the TARDIS where back in space where they had originally landed after…well. After.

            Larentia went to the door, and opened it, looking out into the depths of space, once again filled with the lights of millions of stars. She sat there for a while, one leg dangling out into the abyss, thinking and trying not think, before coming to a decision. She hadn’t gotten to say goodbye to John, or to her Doctor. She wanted to see them one last time.

            She chewed on her lip, wracking her brain for a good time to do it, a time when she wouldn’t accidentally blow a hole in the universe. Again. Unbidden, a memory of the last New Years’ Day she’d had before she met the Doctor rose to her mind. She’d spoken to a drunken man who’d told her she would have a fantastic year…wait a minute… “Oh, you little wanker!” She muttered, leaping to her feet and closing the door before dashing to the console.

            The Doctor had been there, and the more she thought about that memory, the more she realized he hadn’t been drunk: he’d been regenerating. She felt a pang in her heart as she realized that meant he’d gone to see her one last time before he changed his face. She also knew it meant he would be a bit too preoccupied to notice if a little bit of wrongness showed up.

            She landed on January 1st, 2005, and stepped out into the snow. Shivering lightly, she hadn’t dressed for the weather, her feet took her through the familiar buildings, until she peeked around a corner and saw her younger self with the Doctor. Tears streamed down her face as she saw his face alight with life again, contrasting with the image she had of it still with death. The pain on his face was more obvious now, but she knew he lived in some form or another, so it made it easier.

            She only stayed a few minutes, drinking in every last detail of his face, before she turned and left. She could have sworn she heard someone yelling behind her, but when she turned, no one was there.

 

            The Doctor, meanwhile, had come back from nonexistence. _‘Thank you Pond!’_ He’d taken the newlyweds on a quick honeymoon (which went just about as well as the last wedding trip he’d taken them on to Venice) before he dropped them off at home to procreate, or whatever it was humans did once they’d contractually bound themselves.

            He had barely waved goodbye before he was back inside, throwing the levers with more energy than usual, determined to find his Rose. Now that he was thinking more clearly (the threat of nonexistence put a bit of a damper on his processing abilities) he was starting to ask himself the important questions: How had Rose gotten back? Where was his metacrisis? Why hadn’t she come to find him immediately? Why had she looked so sad? Why wasn’t the universe breaking down from the force of one being crossing through the barriers between worlds? And when had she stopped dying her hair?

            He could guess how she’d become an anomaly like Jack; Bad Wolf must’ve kicked in at some point. And he knew that Donna had given Rose and the metacrisis a piece of TARDIS coral, so that explained how she’d gone to the past. What he was really worried about was the absence of the metecrisis; Rose couldn’t age now, so it was possible…it was possible that she’d been left alone in a strange universe. Again.

            The Doctor winced as he realized he’d promised Rose she’d be able to grow old with the metacrisis; he just couldn’t do right by that poor girl. _‘I will this time,’_ he promised himself grimly, initiating the landing sequence. He was going to find her and never let her out of his sight again.

            He stepped out into a hospital, and glared at the Catkind, of whom he was still not overly fond of.  He continued to the back of the ward he was in until he stopped in front of the Face of Bo.

            _‘Hello, Doctor,”_ The Face of Bo said telepathically, looking away from his nurse. _‘I have not seen you in this face before,’_ he added.

            The Doctor smiled, ignoring the pain he felt when he remembered the last time he had visited the Face of Bo. _‘Hello, Jack,’_ The Doctor said, also telepathically. The Face of Bo smiled at the use of his proper name.

            _‘I have not been called that in many years. It is nice.’_

            _‘Rose is back in this universe, do you know where she is?’_ The Doctor asked, his impatience coming back and effectively ending the pleasantries.

            _‘If I did, I would not tell you,’_ Jack said simply.

            The Doctor felt anger build up in him, but tried to keep his face and thoughts neutral. _‘And why is that?’_

            _‘She is hurting, Doctor, more than you know. She needs time to heal, and you would not encourage that healing,’_ Jack said gently, but firmly.

            The Doctor lost it at that. “Of course I would!” He shouted, unable to contain himself with just telepathic communication anymore. “I will always do what is best for her!”

            _‘Like when you left her on a beach with a man she still wasn’t sure was you, and didn’t say goodbye?’_ The Face of Bo asked, his tone stern now. _‘Like when you started the lockdown in Van Statten’s museum, knowing she was being chased by a dalek and she might not make it? Like when you left her alone on an abandoned and dead ship, knowing it was possible you wouldn’t be able to come back? You do not always do what is right for her, Doctor.’_

            The Doctor froze, color draining from his face as all the times he’d fallen short where thrown in his face. He knew he’d messed up, many times, but something about them being spoken out loud…he hoped never to experience it again. _‘I will find her. I will help her. And if you won’t help me to do it, then I’ll find her one my own,’_ he said quietly, returning to telepathy, and not looking at the Face of Bo. He turned and walked away, thinking of other people he could ask, other places where Rose would go.

            Jack watched him leave, a smile hinting at the edge of his lips. _‘Good luck, old friend.’_

 

            After seeing her Doctor, Larentia felt the need for something familiar. She must have set and reset the coordinates ten times before finally sending her ship to Cardiff. Of all the people in the whole universe, she wanted to talk to Jack. Jack had always listened to her, always cheered her up, and now, more so than ever, Jack would understand.

            Of course, when Larentia landed in Cardiff, she realized she’d never been to the Torchwood base here, and had no clue where it was or how to get a hold of Jack. She smacked herself in the head, and looked around. She was near where they’d been when they’d fought Margaret the Slitheen the second time around and here seemed as good a place as any to start. Besides, if there was one thing she knew about Torchwood—and she had worked for them for several years—was if you asked questions long enough, they’d find you.

            She wandered around the area, walking up to anyone who looked vaguely attractive and asked “Hi, I’m looking for my friend Jack, has he hit on you?” Eventually, they managed to point her to a small touristy looking shop.

            There was a young man in a suit behind the counter, who smiled at her politely as she entered. “Hi, I’m looking for my friend Jack, has he hit on you?” She asked tiredly; she was pretty sure she’d repeated that at least one hundred times today.

            The man rolled his eyes. “Five times. Today. Who should I say is calling?” He asked, picking up a phone, and looking at her expectantly.

            Larentia blinked, surprised. “Um, just…just an old friend,” she said carefully. The man nodded and had a quiet conversation with whoever—Jack?—was on the other end of the line. “You can go on back,” the man said eventually, pulling a switch that opened the wall.

            “Thanks,” Larentia smiled. She walked down the hall, chewing on her lip nervously; maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea…

            She’d barely made it into the main room—was that a pterodactyl?!—when she heard a gasp. She turned towards the noise, and saw Jack. All her nervousness was completely forgotten as she grinned and threw herself into his startled arms.

            “Rose? What are you doing here? Where’s the Doctor?” Jack asked, sounding bewildered, but ecstatic.

            Larentia didn’t answer, just hugged him tighter, feeling a piece of her old self come back. “Oh, Jack…” She whispered, fighting back tears. She wanted this to be a happy moment, and she wouldn’t ruin it by crying all over him.

            “You’re still wearing this thing?” She laughed after a moment, pulling back and tugging at his old World War II coat.

            “Hey, don’t knock the coat!” Jack grinned. “And what about you? No more bottle blonde? It’s like I don’t even know you anymore, Rose!” Larentia winced slightly, and tried to cover it up, but Jack noticed.

            “…Come with me, we can talk in private,” he said after a moment, and Larentia finally noticed the others in the room watching her curiously. She waved at the woman she remembered as Gwen, before following Jack into a little room in the back.

            “Alright, spill. You’ve been gone a lot longer than two years, haven’t you?” Jack asked seriously, watching her closely.

            Larentia gave a little start. “It’s only been two years for you?” She asked, surprised. It had been so many years since she had seen Jack herself that she somehow thought it would be just as long for Jack. _‘Freaking time travel,’_ she thought to herself.

            “How long has it been for you?” Jack asked carefully.

            Larentia looked away, stealing herself. She needed to let someone else in on how insane her life had gotten, or else she’d go insane.

            “A long time,” she said at last.

            “Tell me what happened?” Jack asked softly.

            Larentia nodded, and told him the whole story. About how the Doctor left her with the metacrisis, John Noble, about how they’d gotten married, gone traveling. About how John had died, and she’d gone catatonic. About how she’d started running after that, hadn’t stopped yet. About how she couldn’t die, about how she had _tried_ _so hard_ to die. She told him about Alaric and Melvin with Martin and blowing a hole in the universe. She told him about how she was a murderer. She told him about Rory, and what a good person he was and how much he had helped her. She told him about the Doctor and his new face. She told him about the Widow, the Bad Wolf, the Warden, and about Larentia. She told him absolutely everything, until there was nothing left to say and she just felt empty.

            “Oh, Rose…” Jack whispered, horrified at everything she’d been through, and horrified at what she’d done; though, of course, he wouldn’t tell her that last part. She was broken enough.

            Larentia sniffled; she’d managed to stay stoic through her story until the end, when she had cried a little, but she had quickly pulled herself together. She had done more than enough crying lately.

            “Do you hate me?” She asked, successfully managing to keep the fear out of her voice, but unable to look Jack in the eye.

            Jack felt his heart break at the words. No matter how old she was now, or what she had been through, she was still Rose, and Rose hated to disappoint people. Rose had thrived off of the love of her friends, and here she was, afraid that he hated her. It killed Jack.

            “Never,” he promised, pulling her in for a hug again. Larentia clung to him, but kept her eyes dry. She thought there was a good chance that Jack was lying to her, but she chose to accept his promise anyway.

            “So what are you going to do now? You’re welcome to stay here with me,” Jack offered, but Larentia was already shaking her head.

            “I’ve been running for too long; staying still makes me antsy. Besides, I’m not ready to face the Doctor yet, and you know how he likes to frequent Earth,” she said with a crooked smile.

            “But you will confront him some day, right?” Jack asked.

            Larentia looked away. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to face him,” she said softly. She looked back at Jack and smiled. “But I’ll definitely come visit you; it’s been far too long and I don’t think I can go that long without you again,” she declared, and grinned with her tongue between her teeth.

            “I’m surprised you made it as long as you did,” Jack said seriously before breaking character and laughing. He was still worried about Rose, but he thought she needed some normalcy; he wondered if she even knew what that was anymore.

 They continued to talk for the next few hours, Jack telling her stories about his time with Torchwood, and making her laugh until she clutched her ribs from the pain of laughing.

            When she finally went to leave, Jack called to her. “Start going by Rose again. That’s your name and that’s who you are!”

            Larentia waved and smiled, but didn’t answer.


	10. Chapter 9

            The Doctor only managed to check a few more places for Rose (Satellite five, Woman Wept, New Earth) before he received a mysterious blue envelope, calling him back down to Earth. He considered ignoring it, but his curiosity was over whelming, and besides, what if it was Rose? It was TARDIS blue…So before he went to the coordinates listed, he made a quick stop at River’s house, near the Luna University, where she was teaching an Archeology course.

            River was a great teacher, but she often took small side trips using her vortex manipulator. Normally, the Doctor would have broken the device to ensure that the timelines were protected (he had broken it actually, twice) but River was very capable of fixing it, and besides, she could sense an impending paradox as well as he could, so he let it slide.

He only stopped in for a few minutes, but asked River to keep an eye out for a brunette woman with brown eyes who seemed out of place. Her name would be Rose. Then it was down to a little diner on Earth. He ordered a soda, and sat in a booth facing the door, looking for Rose, hoping for Rose.

After about a half hour, he popped back to the TARDIS for a moment, and grabbed his favorite straw that added extra fizz. He may have also done a scan of the immediate area for any abnormalities that matched Rose, but he came up with nothing, and so returned to his soda dejectedly.

Of course, that’s when things got odd.

River (a past version from the one he had just spoken too, so far as he could tell) and Rory and Amy were there, and they all seemed rather displeased with him, if River’s slap and Amy’s frantic questions were anything to go by. They all refused to tell him what had happened of course, only that they had to go to the year 1969 and find Everett Delaware III (What a name!). And, after a lot of unanswered questions from him and a promise from Amy, 1969 was where they went.

 

Two months later and Rory was trapped in a warehouse, surrounded on all sides by the Silence. Even as he marked all of them on his skin, he knew he was vastly outnumbered and had very little chance of surviving this one. This was not how he’d pictured his death, dying at the hands of a creature no one could remember once they’d looked away. What would happen to Amy without him?

He was considering making a mad dash through the Silence towards the exit when the wind stirred behind him. He almost turned to look—the silence were gathering electricity to themselves now—but he knew the second he looked away, he would forget that he was in mortal danger. And so he nearly jumped out of his skin when a bluish beam flew over his shoulder into the nearest silence, followed quickly by three more into the other Silence.

“Here!” A familiar voice shouted, shoving something cold and metal into his hands: a gun.

Rory barely managed to fire off two shots before his savior finished taking down the other three. Larentia turned to him, shaking her head, one eye still on the Silence to make sure they didn’t get back up. “I think I preferred the bears. Hello, Rory.”

Rory gaped at her. “H-hi…” he trailed off.

Larentia continued, surveying the downed Silence. “What are these things, anyway? Never seen them before. Oh, we should probably go, actually, they’re only stunned. Don’t know when it’ll wear off. Into the TARDIS, off you go!”

Larentia turned to shoo Rory into the TARDIS, taking her eyes off of the Silence for the first time since she arrived. As she did, her face went blank for a moment, before she looked at Rory with confusion. “What’re you doing here, Rory? And for that matter, what am I doing here? I was aiming for the Leo Quadrant…” She glared at the TARDIS over Rory’s shoulder. “Very funny!” She called to it, then returned her gaze to Rory with a grin.

Her smile slid away as she took in Rory’s somber look, as well as the tally marks on his face and arms. Then she noticed the gun in his hand, which looked remarkably like one of her own…and then she realized she _was_ holding one of her own guns. She looked at Rory; fear in her eyes for the first time since he’d met her. “Rory, what’s going on?” She asked softly.

“Look behind you,” Rory instructed, moving to stand next to her. Larentia did as she was told, confused and still scared. As soon as she saw the stunned Silence, she gasped as her memories returned. “What…how…” She murmured, taking in the creatures before her.

She blinked, and they were in the TARDIS. She looked at Rory with wide eyes. “What the hell is going on?!” She felt like she was losing her mind. She wouldn’t be surprised if she was, really, after everything she’d gone through. It didn’t make her any less terrified about the idea, though.

The TARDIS hummed soothingly, and Rory rubbed her arm. “Relax, you’re not losing your mind. Just your memories,” Rory said soothingly, then flinched when Larentia looked even less pleased with this revelation. “Right, sorry, bad wording,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Okay, so you just had an encounter with an alien called the Silence. Saved my life actually, thanks for that. But the thing about the Silence is you can only remember them when you’re looking at them; as soon as you look away, you forget all about them,” he explained, feeling relieved when the look of fear left Larentia’s face. It was disconcerting seeing the woman who had saved his skin so many times look afraid.

Larentia chewed on her lip as she digested everything Rory had just told her. “That’s why you’re covered in tallies, yeah? So you know when you’ve seen them?” She asked, motioning to the marks covering Rory.

He nodded, and she winced. “That’s a lot of sightings…” she whispered, taking in the marks. Then she frowned. “Why are you off on your lonesome? Where’re the Doctor and Amy?” She felt anger rising in her at the idea of her Centurion being left to fend for himself against these creatures.

“Whoa, calm down,” Rory said quickly, seeing the anger cloud her eyes. “We split up to see just how many of these things are on Earth, we’re meeting up again in a month.”

Larentia calmed, but she still didn’t like the idea. She took in the tallies again. “If they’re having the same luck as you, then they’re everywhere,” she whispered. She didn’t like this. How many times had she seen the Silence over the years, and simply been unable to remember? She shuddered at the thought.

She grinned at Rory, trying to through off the somber mood. “Well, give us a hug then! Assuming you haven’t already, that is. I haven’t seen you since you were made of plastic!”

Rory laughed despite himself, and wrapped his arms around Larentia’s waist. He frowned. “You need to eat more,” he informed her.

She swatted his arm, glaring at him without really meaning it. “Look who’s talking!” She gestured to his own form, which had thinned after the last two months on the run. He shrugged, but let the issue drop.

Larentia moved to the console, inputting coordinates there were only a few miles away from their current location. “So how’re you? Did you marry Amy yet?” She asked, glancing at Rory with a grin as she ran around the console, doing the work of six at about the same pace.

Rory blushed, but grinned widely. “Yeah, actually. We both woke up on our wedding day without any memory of the Doctor.” Rory went through the whole story, including Amy’s speech at the dinner table, followed by the Doctor’s return.

Larentia shook her head with a smile. “I’ve got to meet this Amy of yours someday. She sounds like a real spitfire.”

Rory muttered something that sounded like “Don’t I know it,” but quickly moved on. “You could come see us. After this whole mess is over, I mean. Me, Amy…the Doctor,” he hinted, watching Larentia carefully.

She smiled without looking at him. “Alright, we’re a few miles from where I picked you up. Should be safe out here. Do try to stay out of trouble? Despite what it may seem, I doubt I’ll show up every time you’re about to die.”

Rory sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to get an affirmative response from her so long as the Doctor was in the picture. He hugged her again before moving to the door. “Thanks for the lift. You may not be the actual Fortuna, but you’ve been pretty lucky for me!” He called, grinning at her before he stepped outside into the harsh sun.

Larentia shook her head with a small smile as she watched him leave, then initiated the dematerialization sequence.

 

A month later, after they were all back together and the Silence had been dealt with, the Doctor sent the Ponds off to bed before looking at his scanner. Amy had told him she was pregnant three months previously, then told him it was a false alarm today. The TARDIS scanners confirmed both her responses; showing her pregnant one minute, and not the next. He frowned at the screen. “Oh Pond, what have you gotten yourself into?” He murmured.


	11. Chapter 10

            Rory was back in his Roman gear, and something about it felt right. It made him feel more capable, more powerful, more confident—like nothing could ever stop him; certainly not a fleet of Cybermen.

            “I have a message and a question,” he said, glaring at the Cybermen. “A message from the Doctor and a question from me. Where is my wife?” Rory glared at the silent Cybermen. “Oh don’t give me those blank looks. The Twelfth Cyber Legion monitors this entire quadrant. You hear everything. So you tell me what I need to know. You tell me and I’ll be on my way.” Rory wished the theatrics of this whole thing weren’t necessary; he wanted to get the information and get out and get to Amy. Amy and his baby…if either of them were hurt, there would be hell to pay.

            “What is the Doctor’s message?” The lead Cyberman asked in his automated voice. Rory heard the rest of the fleet exploding through the window behind him, but didn’t flinch and didn’t turn to look.

            “Would you like me to repeat the question?”

 

            Rory ran down the hall to where the Doctor was supposed to pick him up. The Cybermen were concerned enough about their continued existence to leave him be for the moment, but he wasn’t sure how long that would last.

            He rounded a corner and ran smack dab into something far too soft to be a Cyberman. He stumbled backwards, but the other, smaller being wasn’t so lucky, and fell down with an “oompf!”

            “Larentia?!” Rory asked incredulously. What on Earth…?

            Larentia looked up at Rory, her wide eyes conveying that she was just as surprised as he was. “Rory? What the hell are you doing on a cybership?! I thought I told you to try and stay out of trouble!” She scolded with a frown. Her frown only deepened when she took in his apparel.

            Rory reached down and helped her stand up. “What happened, Rory? It had to have been something bad for you to be here and all…Roman.” Larentia leveled what Rory had come to call her “serious” gaze on him, and he rubbed his forehead agitatedly.

“They took Amy. The Silence; the cult, not the alien species,” Rory added. “She’s pregnant. The Doctor is raising an army so we can get her back. Can you help?” He asked desperately.

Larentia hesitated; the Doctor would be there, he’d be able to sense her. And then she hated herself for even thinking that; this was Rory. “Of course. Where is Amy being held?”

Rory looked relieved. “It’s a fortress called Demon’s Run. Do you need a lift, or…” Rory trailed off as he watched Larentia shake her head.

“I’ll take my TARDIS and see you there. And Rory? We’ll get her back.” Rory clasped her shoulder in gratitude, then hurried off to where the Doctor would pick him up.

Larentia watched him go, frowning. She reached into her pocket, her fist curling around a crumpled piece of paper.

_Larentia had decided to visit Jack; she needed a moment to relax. She’d visited him several times since their first reunion, and she always came away in higher spirits than before._

_“Rosie!” Jack grinned, hugging her and spinning her around. He refused to call her anything but Rose or Rosie, something that got on Larentia’s nerves, but that she had come to accept._

_“Hi, Jack,” Larentia giggled as her feet touched the ground again._

_“Oh! I’ve got something for you, hold on…” Jack muttered, digging in the pockets of his coat before producing a folded, yellowed piece of paper. “I can’t read it—not for a lack of trying, trust me—”he winked, handing her the paper, “but it has your name on it, so I assume you can read it.”_

_Larentia took the paper, curious and a bit concerned. Sure enough, the name_ ‘Rose Tyler’ _was written in unfamiliar hand writing on the front. Larentia frowned; who in this universe other than Jack knew both her full name and that she existed?_

_She opened the paper and felt the blood drain from her face. The note was filled with instructions, but that wasn’t what had caused Larentia’s reaction; the entire note was written in Old High Gallifreyan, a language that had died with the Time Lords. John had taught her a bit of it, and the TARDIS and her library had helped complete her education, but so far as Larentia knew, the Doctor was the only other person who knew it._

_And yet this wasn’t his handwriting._

_The note was brief, but specific:_

‘Hello, Dear

When it is time for you to go to Demon’s Run, make sure you are an hour late; the Doctor won’t notice you then. Stay out of the fighting, go to the upper levels and down the third corridor on the right. Take the baby from the woman with the eye patch. You will receive further instructions there.

I am so sorry,

A Friend

_Larentia frowned as she told Jack what it said. “But what does it mean?” He asked, confused and worried._

_Larentia looked up at him. “I don’t know.”_

And now she did. That had happened weeks ago, but she kept the paper on her anyway, just in case. She quickly made her way back to her TARDIS, her mind whirling.

The thing that worried Larentia the most was the apology at the closing of the note. Were they apologizing for the cryptic-ness? Or something much worse?

Not that it mattered anymore; this was Rory’s wife and child at stake, she had to go. She would follow the instructions she’d been given, if only because it sounded like it would lead her to Rory’s child.

_Demons run when a good man goes to war._

She sent the TARDIS to Demon’s Run, an hour late, as instructed. Even before she stepped outside, she could hear the sounds of battle. She checked her gun, making sure it was charged and set to stun, before stepping outside.

The scene outside was utter chaos; there were soldiers firing their guns, and headless monks with swords. Scattered throughout were aliens—most Larentia recognized, but a few she didn’t. She thought she could make out Rory, but it was hard to tell. Shaking her head and remembering her mission, Larentia turned away from the battle, and made her way to the upper levels, gun at the ready.

_Night will fall and drown in sun when a good man goes to war._

Most of the soldiers were fighting down below, but Larentia still had to stun a few stragglers. She crept along silently, not wanting to alert anyone to her presence. She reached the third corridor on the right, and turned down it.

The light was faint, but at the end, she could make out a woman carrying a child, flanked on each side by an armed guard. Larentia narrowed her eyes, and took a deep, steadying breath. Releasing it, she ran forward, keeping her steps light so that she couldn’t be heard until it was too late.

She took the first guard down with a shot from her gun. She was too close then to use it properly, and the other guard was already aiming at her, so she dropped to the ground and pushed off with her hands to kick her feet into the guard’s diaphragm, knocking the wind from him and making him fire his gun safely to the right.

Larentia jumped to her feet again, and slammed the butt of her gun into the man’s head, knocking him out. She could see the woman—who did indeed have an eye patch—shifting the baby to one arm as she pulled a gun of her own, but Larentia was faster, and had her gun trained on the woman before she could finish drawing her own weapon.

“Give me the child,” Larentia said, her voice deadly calm.

“I think not. You won’t shoot me, it might injure the child,” the woman taunted with a smirk.

Larentia raised an eyebrow. “I have a lot more faith in my aim than you do, obviously,” she warned. She switched the setting on the gun from stun to lethal, never taking her eye off the woman, and never lowering her weapon. “You have five seconds. One.”

The woman scoffed, but Larentia noted a bit of fear in her eye. “Two.”

A bead of sweat ran down the woman’s temple. “Three.”

“Fine!” She snapped, holding the sleeping child out to Larentia. Larentia reached out with one hand, managing to maneuver the small baby to her side safely without ever losing her shot. Once she was sure the child was secure, she pistol whipped the woman like she had one of the guards, and stepped away.

“Great job, Rosie!”

Larentia whirled around, raising her gun before she realized she knew the voice. “Jack?” She asked, not sure if she believed her eyes. But it was him, grinning like an idiot. He’d even called her Rosie, so there was no way he was a fake. “What’re you doing here? How are you here?” She demanded, still running off of the adrenaline of the short fight.

“Vortex manipulator; a…friend fixed it. I’m supposed to take the kid from you. Apparently, I have to take her to an orphanage.” Larentia frowned at this; why wasn’t the child going to its parents? “Yeah, I didn’t like it either,” Jack said, apparently reading her thoughts, “but apparently the Silence would find her again otherwise,” he explained.

Larentia looked at the baby in her arms, a girl judging by Jack’s words, and knew the girl was in for a terrible childhood. “There must be another way…” she whispered.

She looked up at Jack just in time to see his eyes go wide and his mouth try to form a warning. She felt a searing pain in her shoulder, followed by what must have been very close to a lethal amount of electricity. Jack managed to grab the baby from her arms before Larentia dropped her, and reached with on hand for a weapon.

“No!” Larentia ground out. The electricity had stopped, but her muscles were locked in place. “Go!” She ordered frantically. Jack looked at her helplessly, but hit a button on his vortex manipulator, and was gone.

_Friendship dies and true love lies._

“Damn it!” A voice yelled angrily from behind the paralyzed Larentia. The woman from before stepped into her line of sight, and Larentia cursed herself for not hitting her hard enough to knock her out for more than a few minutes. There was a bruise forming on the woman’s temple, though, Larentia noted with grim satisfaction.

The woman crouched down to glare at Larentia. “That little girl was how I was going to kill the Doctor,” the woman informed her calmly, her single eye looking Larentia over.

Larentia managed to smirk. “So sorry to screw up your plans,” she ground out sarcastically; her jaw was still tight from the residual effects of what Larentia assumed was a long distance taser.

The woman smiled slowly, maliciously.

_Night will fall and dark will rise when a good man goes to war._

“That’s alright my dear; I think you’ll make a nice replacement. I might not get to raise you to be a willing participant, but I’m sure I can work out…other arrangements.”

Larentia felt her blood run cold, and tried to push herself up, to reach for her gun, to fight, _something_.

“Ah ah ah!” The woman scolded with a smirk, firing the taser at Larentia again, causing her to gasp in pain. The woman pulled out a walkie-talkie and called for two more soldiers to come up. They arrived within minutes, and hauled Larentia to her feet. She tried to struggle, but her limbs wouldn’t cooperate. “Bring her along,” the woman ordered, turning away and leading them to a small ship. Larentia was loaded on and strapped down. “This might hurt a bit,” the woman smirked, before slipping a syringe into Larentia’s neck, causing her to hiss, and pressing the plunger. Larentia felt the sedative seep into her blood stream immediately, and tried to fight her drooping eyelids to no avail.

“Sleep tight, dear,” the woman grinned as Larentia’s eyes finally slipped closed.

_Demons run but count the cost; the battle’s won but the child’s lost._


	12. Chapter 11

            “Amy! She’s not real—Melody, She’s a flesh avatar!” The Doctor yelled frantically, pounding on the locked door. “Amy!” He called once more before the door opened and he rushed into the hanger, where there had obviously been more fighting. “Amy!” He yelled, then took in the desperation and anger on Rory’s face, and the tears on Amy’s. “Amy,” he said softly.

            “Yeah, we know,” Rory said hollowly. Rory moved to try and save Stax, but he died before Rory could do anything for him. Rory backed away and looked around the room. She was gone. His daughter was gone and he had no clue where or what they’re doing to her or if he’d ever see her again or…

            Larentia hadn’t shown up. In the middle of the fighting, Rory had looked around, desperate to catch sight of a brunette pony tail, or that wolfish smile she always got when they were fighting. But she hadn’t been there. Everything always turned out alright if his Fortuna showed up, and he had no doubt that had Larentia been there today, his daughter would be safe.

            He walked over to Amy, the Doctor, and Jenny, and puts an arm around Amy’s shoulders. She was crying again, and Rory felt his shattered heart break a little more. His strong girl…she was as broken as he was now. The Doctor walked over to a dying girl, and Rory pulled Amy into his arms, where she sobbed on his shoulder.

            “Shhh, shhh, we’ll find her, we’ll get her back,” Rory promised quietly.

            “Don’t shush me,” Amy said with a watery smile, but her eyes held so much despair.

            Rory smiled at her, and started to say something else, but was cut off by a flash of light and a loud noise. When they turned towards the source, River walked to them. Rory felt another flare of anger; he’d asked her to come, but she’d refused. She’d known this would happen. And he hated her for it.

            “Well, then, soldier, how goes the day?” River asked with a small smile.

            The Doctor was furious, mostly with himself, but he’d gladly take it out on River. “Where the hell have you been?” He snapped, striding over to her. “Every time you’ve asked, I’ve been there. Where the hell were you today?” He screamed.

            “I couldn’t have prevented this,” River told him calmly.

            “You could’ve tried!” The Doctor seethed.

            “And so, my friend, could you,” she told the Doctor, her eyes hard. She looked past the enraged Doctor to Amy and Rory. “I know you’re not alright. But hold tight, Amy, because you will be,” she said softly.

            But the Doctor wasn’t done with her, and was even more infuriated now that she’d accused him of not trying to save his best friends’ child. “You think I wanted this? I didn’t do this! This…this wasn’t me!” He shouted, glaring at River and daring her to contradict him.

            In true River fashion, she took the dare, glaring at him all the while. “This was exactly you. All this, all of it. You make them so afraid. When you began, all those years ago, sailing off to see the universe, did you ever think you'd become this? The man who can turn an army around at the mention of his name? Doctor? The word for healer and wise man, throughout the universe. We get that word from you, you know. But if you carry on the way you are, what might that word come to mean? To the people of the Gamma Forests, the word "Doctor" means mighty warrior. How far you've come. And then they took a child…the child of your best friends…she has been saved, but she will still suffer, as will another. All just to bring you down. And all this, my friend...in fear of you.”

            The Doctor gaped at her, and heard Amy make a small noise of hope. Melody was safe…but who would suffer in her place? “Who are you?” He finally managed to ask River.

            “Oh look! Your cot! I haven’t seen this in a very long while!” River said lightly, stepping past him and over to his old cot.

            The Doctor followed her, determined now. “No, no, you tell me. Tell me... who you are!”

            River took his hand with a small smile. “I am telling you,” she gestured to the cot. “Can’t you read?”

            The Doctor looked at the Gallifreyan writing on the cot, confused. It still showed his name, and he went to ask River what she was talking about when he saw the prayer leaf in the cot. “Oh,” he breathed, then looked at River with a smile. “Hello.”

            “Hello,” River returned with a smile.

            The Doctor laughed, and turned away. “Vashtra and Jenny, ‘til the next time. Amy and Rory, I’ll find your daughter, and, on my life, she will be safe. River, get them all home,” he instructed, rushing to the TARDIS and lifting the force field.

            “Doctor?” Rory called, confused.

            “No! Where are you going? No!” Amy yelled after him, confused and angry and oh so broken.

            The Doctor paused in the door way of the TARDIS and turned back to them. He pointed at River and laughed, slightly mad, before going inside. The TARDIS dematerialized.

            Rory watched in a daze as River calmed Amy down (who had found a gun, God save them all) before telling her to read the prayer leaf the woman had given her. Rory moved closer to read it over her shoulder. _‘River Song.’_

            “It’ me. I’m Melody. I’m your daughter,” River said, the hint of tears in her voice. Amy and Rory both gaped at her, before Amy immediately engulfed her in a hug. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. River hugged her back, and Rory moved closer, still trying to understand how drastically his life had changed in the past few minutes. He had a daughter. And she was older than him.

            “I don’t understand…how did you get away from Madame Kovarian?” He asked as his wife and daughter broke apart.

            “A friend of yours, actually. She took me away, and gave me to a friend of hers, who took me to an orphanage in the 60s,” River explained. “The Silence would have found me again if I’d have been brought back to you,” she added, interrupting Amy’s protests.

            Rory frowned. A friend of his… “Larentia?” He asked, eyes widening in realization.

            River nodded as Amy stared at him in confusion. “Yes, that is what she calls herself these days, isn’t it?”

            “But where is she now? Why didn’t she tell me?” Rory asked, frowning.

            “Wait, who’s Larentia?” Amy asked, looking back and forth between the two.

            River ignored her. “Someone had to be taken in my place…” River told Rory sadly. “And you can’t tell the Doctor. He will find her in his own time.”

           

            The Doctor sat on a blanket, smiling and laughing with his closet friends. He tried to absorb every moment of it, since it would be the last time he was with them.

            They heard a noise behind them, and turned to see an old pick-up truck drive up. An older man stepped out, and nodded at the Doctor, who nodded back.

            “Whatever happens, you need to stay back,” he told River, Amy, and Rory as he walked down to the waters’ edge, where the astronaut was already emerging from the water.

            “Hello,” he said quietly as he approached. He had run from this moment for far too long; it was time to see exactly who River had beens talking about when she said another would suffer in her place. “It’s alright, you can show me who you are,” he said gently. He could already hear the noises of someone crying from within the suit.

            A white gloved hand slowly lifted the visor, and the Doctor felt both his hearts stop. “No…Rose…” he whispered, desperately whishing this was all some terrible nightmare.

            “I can’t stop it,” Rose cried, even as her arm rose to point a gun at him.

            The Doctor nodded numbly; he knew what had to happen there. “It’s okay, I’m ready, and I’ve already forgiven you,” he said, a small smile forming on his face, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I only wish our reunion had been a bit different.”

            “You have to run!” Rose yelled, trying to lower her arm.

            “I’m done running,” the Doctor said calmly, raising his arms up. “I’m ready,”

            “No!” Rose yelled, and he hears a gun shot before his vision was obscured by golden light, which was pouring from all his limbs. He heard a second shot, and everything went black.

 

            Larentia was still crying even as the Silence recovered her from the lake. She killed the Doctor. _She killed the Doctor._ She pondered this thought as she was removed from the suit, her tears slowing and stopping. They’d taken her back to Demons Run, which was good, since the TARDIS was there.

            “There, now, dear. Everything’s done and you’re free to go. Well, until the authorities catch you; you’ll be a wanted woman after this,” Madame Kovarian said with a poisonous smile.

            Larentia raised her eyes to Kovarian’s one eye, her face strangely blank. “I am giving you one warning, one chance to try and save yourselves: Run. Run to the farthest corner of the universe, and then keep running and hope I can never find you,” she said in a voice like ice.

            Kovarian raised an eyebrow. “And why is that, dear?” She asked in the patronizing voice that Larentia hated.

            “Because of who I am. Because of what I’ve done. Because of what I will do when I find you, because I _will_ find you. It doesn’t matter where you run or how far; I will find you. And I will _destroy_ you,” Larnetia said, her voice growing quieter and, if possible, colder.

            “And who are you, dear?” Kovarian asked, refusing to show any fear.

            “The Bad Wolf. Look me up, and then pray that I will be merciful when I find you.”

            Kovarian visibly paled; the stories of the Bad Wolf and how she’d destroyed the Dalek Emperor were known far and wide. She’d never really believed them, but now, looking at the furious woman before her, she believed, and she was afraid. Kovarian and her guards activated their vortex manipulators, and fled, looking for some obscure corner of the universe where they could hide.

            Bad Wolf smirked, but there was no humor in it. She strode to her TARDIS, and went inside, petting the walls thoughtfully. “Hello, Old Girl,” she murmured. She pondered at the sense of peace she felt; she was pretty sure she should be wallowing right about now. “Ah…” she murmured as she realized. Whatever had remained of her humanity through all these years, whatever ounce of compassion she still carried, it was gone. It had died with the Doctor, and now she was swimming in a sea of madness; blissful, painless madness. And she would make those who had hurt her in the past pay: starting with Madame Kovarian and the rest of the Silence.

            “Let’s go get your sister, first. She shouldn’t be left alone,” Bad Wolf murmured to her own TARDIS as she set the coordinates. The TARDIS tried to reach her Wolf’s mind, pushing and screaming and trying to comfort the girl, but she could not be heard behind the walls of anger and insanity in her Wolf’s mind.

            “And once we get your sister somewhere safe, you and I will bond the way she and I did, all those years ago.”


	13. Chapter 12

            It didn’t take Bad Wolf very long to find the Doctor’s TARDIS, since her own TARDIS had parked only two blocks away from it. She hummed _Hungry Like the Wolf_ to herself as she slipped her key (which she’d kept in a small white box which also held her and John’s wedding rings) into the lock of the blue box, and stepped inside, pausing in the entrance.

            “Hello, Old Girl, I love what you’ve done with the place,” she murmured, before dashing to the controls. “And I’m hungry like the wolf!” She sang as she ran around. She took the breaks off (something the Doctor always forgot to do), then paused, wondering where exactly she should take the TARDIS. She didn’t want her to be alone, but who else knew how to drive her? “Jack!” Bad Wolf crowed, and began dashing about again. She wasn’t sure that Jack would know how to drive her, but he’d figure it out.

            “Rose?” Bad Wolf whirled around to face the startled voice behind her. She blinked once, twice, then scowled. “Oh well that’s just lovely. Listen, I realize I’m a time rotor short of a TARDIS at the moment, but that is no reason to go generating hallucinations!” She shouted, turning back to the TARDIS controls.

            “Sorry, but who’re you yelling at?”

            Bad Wolf huffed impatiently. “You, my brain. Both? All I know is you’re not real,” She turned around again, and walked into the personal space of her hallucination. “You can’t be real,” she whispered, looking him over closely, “I killed you.” The hallucination Doctor reached out to touch her, but Bad Wolf danced out of reach, back over to the controls.

            “I’m not a hallucination, Rose,” the Doctor called desperately, moving closer to Bad Wolf.

            “’Course you are. Saw you die myself. Hell, I pulled the trigger! And now this is my brain’s last ditch effort to pull me back to sanity and change my mind,” Bad Wolf said firmly. Part of her wondered why she was arguing with a figment of her imagination. The majority of her didn’t particularly care.

            “Change your mind? Change it from what?” The Doctor asked uneasily.

            “Why, from absorbing the heart of the TARDIS, of course. Again. ‘Course, this time, I can’t die, so it’ll be loads more fun!” She sang cheerfully, before her face turned serious. “I’m going to kill them all. The Silence. Every last one of them,” she whispered, her eyes unfocusing. She giggled after a moment, and her eyes returned to the Doctor. “Except for Madame Kovarian. I’m going to atomize her piece by piece, make sure she can feel it. I figure I’ll start with the non-vital organs; the appendix, the tonsils, a lung, a kidney, the spleen. Can you live without the spleen? Ah, well, I was always rubbish at anatomy.” She turned away from him, and went back to the controls.

            “Rose—”

            “Don’t call me that!” She snarled, turning back to him with her teeth bared like some sort of rabid animal.

            “What should I call you, then?” The Doctor asked warily, his hands raised in surrender.

            “Bad Wolf. That’s what I’m calling myself now…” She trailed off and turned away again, slower this time.

            “Alright…Bad Wolf…you can’t merge with the heart of the TARDIS again,” he pleaded.

            “Sure I can!” Bad Wolf sang cheerfully.

            “Bad Wolf…Rose…” The Doctor put his hand on Bad Wolf’s shoulder, and she stiffened under his touch, as if he were King Midas.

            “No. No no no no no no no no….” She muttered, pulling away from the Doctor, who was not a hallucination, and backing away, fear making her eyes go wide. “You’re dead. I killed you. And then I killed you again mid-regeneration. You. Are. DEAD!” She screamed.

            “Hush, hush, calm down,” The Doctor said, stepping closer, then stopping when Bad Wolf whimpered in fear. “That wasn’t me. Well, I was there, but the body you shot wasn’t mine. There’s this police force, and they have these machines that look like whatever person they want them too; they owed me a favor, so I got them to make their machine, the tessalecta, look like me. I was riding inside of it. You didn’t kill me, you just made the Silence think I’m dead. See? Everything’s okay!” The Doctor said with a hopeful smile.

            Bad Wolf slowly stepped closer to the Doctor, the fear gone from her face. She reached a hand out to touch his face, and the Doctor smiled reassuringly at her. He raised his hands to hug her, and only barely registered the flash of rage on her face before her fist collided with his jaw and sent him to the ground. “Ow!” He shouted in protest.

            “You let me think I killed you!” Bad Wolf shrieked, rage making her eyes burn like fire. “ _Killed you._ Did you think that would go over well? That I’d just be able to accept it and move on with my life? Or did you think at all? And you were there the _whole bloody time_. Why the _hell_ didn’t you find some way to let me know you were in there, that I wasn’t killing you?!” She screamed.

            The Doctor picked himself up slowly, rubbing his jaw. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I should have realized that, for someone as innocent as you, taking a life—” The Doctor was cut off by Bad Wolf’s derisive laugh.

            “Innocent? Oh Doctor…I’ve killed before,” She snapped, and the Doctor thought he saw some of the insanity return to her eyes.

            “Right, right,” he back tracked, trying to think of a way to calm her down, “I’m sure at some point, in order to save yourself, you had to take a life, but I’m sure—” he was cut off again.

            “In order to save myself, right. You know, that’s what I told myself in the beginning? That it was _necessary_. Even that lie fell through in the end. My hands have more blood on them than yours, _Doctor_ ,” she spit his name out like it left a bad taste in her mouth.

            But now the Doctor was getting angry. He’d opened up to her before, told her what he’d done to his people, how dare she dismiss that now? “Are you forgetting, _Rose_ ,” he said quietly, anger filling his voice, “that I destroyed my entire planet? My whole race? And most of the daleks in the process?”

            “And I killed the whole bloody universe!” Bad Wolf yelled at him.

            The TARDIS went dead silent after that. “You…you what?” The Doctor managed to choke out.

            “Didn’t you wonder how I came back?” Bad Wolf taunted, circling him now like he was her prey. “I created a paradox, a huge bloody paradox that swallowed the whole universe; I slipped out of the tears at the edges,” she stopped so that she was right in front of him. “And I managed to hold it together, barely. And then you. You had to go and make me think I’d killed you. _The Doctor_. The one man who would be able to keep this universe safe. How could you ever think I would survive that?” She whispered, shaking her head. She started for the door.

            “Rose, I—”

            “I SAID DON’T CALL ME THAT!” Bad Wolf whirled around, her face murderous. And in that moment, the Doctor thought she might actually kill him. “Rose Tyler died a long time ago. You would do well to forget her,” she said in a quieter tone, full of bitterness. She left then, and the Doctor didn’t try to stop her.

            He sat down on the jump seat, staring off into the distance. Rose had murdered an entire universe. That was a googolplex of people. It was an accident; he knew it was an accident, even if she didn’t say it was. But still, all those people…  
            The Doctor dropped his head into his hands. Rose, his Rose, was a murderer. He didn’t know if he should hug her and try to make her better, or take her straight down to the Shadow Proclamation and make her face judgment. Both, of course, were assuming he could find her again and catch her.

            He groaned. Never in his long life had he thought that he would one day have to figure out a way to _catch_ Rose Tyler. Rose Tyler…he was still calling her that, even though she’d claimed that that part of her had died…

            And with that, the Doctor realized that he still believed in Rose Tyler. She was still there, she could still be saved, and she could still be loved.

            The Doctor stood, and went to the controls. He had to find her. He _would_ find her, and he would help her.

 

            Bad Wolf stalked onto her TARDIS, and paced back and forth in the control room, still fuming over her shouting match with the Doctor. “Grah!” She screamed, and kicked the wall of the TARDIS. The TARDIS hummed reproachfully at her, but secretly, she was happy that the insanity that had completely closed off her Wolf’s mind had diminished; it still lingered at the edges, but it was no longer all-consuming.

            Bad Wolf stalked out of the main room and down the hall into her work out room. She hadn’t been in there in a long time, not since she’d decided not to kill anyone, but she needed to blow off some steam. She through her army green jacket to the side and started attacking the punching bag; not bothering to wrap her knuckles first. She went at it for hours, screaming her frustration as she went, until her knuckles were bruised and bloody and her throat was raw and torn.

            And she was still angry. She wandered back into the console room, muttering to herself, before she set the coordinates to the small room in Torchwood’s Cardiff division where she and Jack usually met.

            She stepped into the room, and Jack was there in minutes. He walked in with a grin, his arms open and ready for a hug, but stopped when he took in the state of Rose. She was sweaty and bleeding, pacing back and forth in the small room, and cursing in several different alien languages.

            “Rose?” She turned to glare at him when she heard her true name, but huffed and kept pacing. Jack sat down on an old desk that had been put in the room for storage, and waited; he knew Rose well enough to know that she’d tell him when he was ready.

            She stopped and faced him abruptly. “I spoke to the Doctor today,” she declared; her voice was rough from all the screaming she’d done, and it hurt to talk, but she ignored it.

            Jack raised an eyebrow, and looked her over again. “I take it it didn’t go well?” He asked wryly.

            Rose nodded, and, after much prodding, sat down and told him the whole story. Jack bandaged her knuckles while she spoke, keeping his face down so that she wouldn’t see the anger on his face. She’d come to him to calm down, she didn’t need to know that he was planning his own shouting match with the Doctor as they spoke.

            When she’d finished talking, Bad Wolf was tired. She allowed Jack to pull her in for a hug, and let her forehead rest on his shoulder as she closed her eyes. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you from Madame Kovarian,” Jack whispered, and Bad Wolf heard the pain in his voice.

            “Hey,” she said, pulling away and holding his face between her hands so that he was looking at her. “I told you to leave. I told you to take Melody, and leave. That was _my_ decision, and don’t you ever, _for one second_ , think that anything that happened as a result of _my decision_ is your fault. Okay?” She asked, her eyes darting back and forth between Jack’s to make sure he understood.

            Jack sighed, and looked away, but nodded and smiled at Bad Wolf. She smiled back. “Good. Now, where did you take Melody? I want to keep an eye on her, make sure she’s safe.”

           

            Jack watched the TARDIS leave, and turned away. He’d told Rose where he’d dropped off the baby—Melody, her name was Melody—and she’d left soon after. He was left alone to try and figure out a way to contact the Doctor.

            He was almost out the door when he felt the wind that he associated with Rose’s arrival. When he turned, however, it was the blue box that greeted him, not the red door. Well, that was easy.

            The Doctor poked his head out, frowning. “It didn’t make the noise. Why didn’t it make the noise?” He murmured before his eyes landed on Jack. “Jack!” he smiled, stepping out of the TARDIS and closer to his old friend. “Have you seen—” he was cut off as he was punched for the second time that day. The good news was Jack had nothing on Rose. The bad news was he’d hit the same spot Rose had.

            “Right, starting to get used to that…” he muttered, standing up and dusting himself off.

            “You let her think she’d killed you? Are you crazy?!” Jack yelled.

            “So I’ll take that as a yes, Rose has been here?” The Doctor asked wearily.

            “Damn straight she has! She came in here, her hands practically mangled, furious beyond belief, and all because you couldn’t be bothered to tell her _you were in a robot and not dying!_ ”

            The Doctor rubbed his head. “I know, I know, I screwed up. I’m trying to find her now, do you know where she is?” He pleaded.

            Jack considered him for a moment. “I’m not sure you’re what she needs right now,” he said at last.

            The Doctor gaped at him. “I’m always what she needs!” He retorted, then winced at the look Jack was giving him. “Right, that came out rather arrogantly. What I mean is, I can help her heal.”

            Jack shook his head. “You need to let her cool off first. The way she is now, she might kill you on sight. For real this time. Let her be for a while, if I think she’s ready for you, I’ll send her your way. Or you her way. One or the other. But _only_ if I think you’re both ready,” Jack said firmly, glaring at the Doctor who just stared at him.

            “When did you turn into her dad?” He had to duck as a stapler flew at his head.


	14. Chapter 13

            Bad Wolf stepped out of her TARDIS into a dark hall that smelled faintly of dust and stale air. She wrinkled her nose. “Jack, what the hell were you thinking?” She muttered, taking in the orphanage with an air of disdain.

“Eeny meeny miny that one,” she muttered, pointing at the different halls branching out from her location before choosing one at random. She wandered down the deserted hall, checking the equally empty rooms, and started wondering if she’d gotten the year right. She was supposed to be checking up on baby Melody, but this place looked like it hadn’t seen any children, or any other living creature, for years. There were a few abandoned toys, and the walls were covered in phrases such as “Get out” or “Leave me.” Bad Wolf was starting to feel like she was in a horror movie.

            The hall came out near a staircase, and Bad Wolf paused, hearing voices. She surreptitiously looked down onto the staircase, and let out a muffled curse in Galifreyan when she saw a familiar head of red hair. She’d only seen Amy once, but she would recognize that hair and that accent anywhere.

            Bad Wolf pulled back, and turned to go back down the hall she’d come from; she had to find Melody before Amy did. She couldn’t handle another paradox. She ran past her red door, and started checking rooms again. She was about to push open another door when something on her arm caught her eye.

            Tallies. There were fifteen of them.

            She let out another curse, in Silurian this time. So, not only was Amy here, but the Silence were here as well. How long had they been here? Had they found Melody yet? They must have…but why were they keeping her here?

            Bad Wolf doubled her speed, barely glancing in each room before moving on to the next. She was going so fast, she had to back track when she finally found a room with a child in it. Bad Wolf came in quietly; the girl was sleeping, and looked feverish. Bad Wolf frowned as she looked the blonde girl over; she looked to be about seven, older than Melody at any rate. She glanced around the room, stopping when her eyes caught sight of a familiar face in one of the pictures. Bad Wolf lifted the picture, eyes widening as she took in the sight of Amy Pond holding Melody.

            “Woops,” she muttered, putting the picture back and hurrying over to the sleeping Melody. Turns out she had gotten the year wrong in one sense, but very right in another. She’d shown up in just enough time to save Melody from both the Silence and her mother.

            “Come here, little one,” Bad Wolf murmured, lifting the small girl. Melody groaned in her sleep, but didn’t wake up. Bad Wolf frowned, but hurried down the hallway. She was almost to the TARDIS when she heard the sound of someone else coming. She quickly slipped into one of the rooms, holding her breath and waiting for the footsteps to pass; that must have been Amy.

            Bad Wolf waited a moment longer, then slipped out of the room, and ran the last few meters to her TARDIS.

            “Who’re you?” The little girl in her arms asked weakly.

            Bad Wolf smiled down at the girl. “Call me your fairy godmother. No, wait, don’t. Too Cinderella. Call me…Aunt Lupine,” she responded gently.

            Melody frowned, but didn’t question her further, distracted by a particularly nasty sounding coughing fit.

            Bad Wolf frowned, and hurried down to the med bay. “I’ll be right back, okay? I just need to get us somewhere safe, and then I’ll be right back. Stay here,” she said as she hooked Melody up to a few machines. Melody nodded, and Bad Wolf got the distinct impression that she couldn’t leave if she tried.

            Hurrying back to the control room, Bad Wolf sent the TARDIS into space, where she knew they would be safe for a while. She practically ran back to the med bay, and began reading over Melody’s vitals. _‘She’s dying’_ Bad Wolf realized with a sinking feeling.

            “Where are we?” the little girl asked in a hoarse whisper.

            “We’re in my…” Bad Wolf floundered for a moment, “castle. Sure, let’s go with that. It’s a magic castle that can go anywhere. How long have you been ill?”

            “A few weeks…Dr. Renfrew says it’s pne—pneomn—pneumonia,” the girl frowned as she struggled with the difficult word.

            “Why didn’t he take you to a hospital?” Bad Wolf tried to keep the anger out of her voice as she rummaged around for something that would heal the sick child.

            “He said _they_ wouldn’t let him. But he didn’t remember who _they_ were…I don’t, either…” Melody trailed off, and started hacking again, her small body convulsing with the force of her coughs.

            Bad Wolf gave up her search to help the girl sit up, in hopes that it would clear her airways a bit and allow her to breathe. She rubbed Melody’s back soothingly, and tried to figure out why the Silence wouldn’t want Melody cured…did they want her to die?!

            “Aunt Lupine…I feel weird…” Melody whispered, fear in her voice. Bad Wolf looked down at the girl, and couldn’t stop her gasp. Melody’s skin was starting glow gold, just like the Doctor’s before he regenerated.

            “But…how…?” Bad Wolf yelped. She carefully lay the girl down, and moved around in front of her. “Okay, Melody, I need you to be brave for me now. You’re going to change, and it’s probably not going to feel all that great, but you’ll be all better when it’s over, okay?” She said urgently.

            “What’s happening to me?” Melody cried as the golden glow intensified.

            “It’s all going to be alright, I promise. I’ll be here the whole time,” Bad Wolf promised. She could see how little that did to ease Melody’s worries, but it was too late for her to come up with anything else. Light poured from Melody’s limbs, and Bad Wolf covered her eyes as she waited for it to finish.

            The crying of a baby let Bad Wolf know it was done, and she lowered her hand to see a small, dark skinned baby crying in the spot where Melody had just been. “Oh, that’s unfortunate,” Bad Wolf murmured, hurrying forward and scooping up baby Melody into her arms. She shushed her and bounced her, trying to get her to calm down. “You know, this is closer to the size I remember you being,” she said conversationally, then realized she was talking to a baby. “Right.”

            She eventually got Melody to go to sleep, and put her in a crib that the TARDIS provided. “How on Earth did you manage that, kid?” She murmured to herself as she studied the sleeping child. So far as she was aware, both Amy and Rory were human, and she somehow doubted Amy had had an affair with the Doctor.

            If she had, Bad Wolf would kill her.

            So how was Melody able to regenerate?

            And what in the hell was she going to do with a maybe half Time Lord baby?

            Bad Wolf went back out into the control room, and paced, chewing on her lip as she thought it over. Melody deserved as normal a childhood as possible and she definitely wasn’t going to get it with Bad Wolf. But where could she take Melody where she would be safe and impossible to find?

            Oh…of course… “Hide her in plain sight!” She trumpeted in triumph. “What year was he born, what year was he born…” she muttered, before letting out an “Ah hah!” and entering the date. “Town. What was the town called. L something. Loot. Lead. Ledworth!” She muttered, typing furiously before throwing the lever that would make the TARDIS materialize in Rory’s hometown. “Well Rory, consider this my Christmas, birthday, and wedding present to you. Forever!” She exclaimed to the empty TARDIS before going to collect Melody.

            She wrapped her up carefully, and pinned a small white card to the blanket that bore Melody’s name (her first name only) as well as her date of birth (with a year that was closer to the current one, rather than the extremely far into the future one that was more accurate). She dropped her off outside of the hospital, and waited until she saw someone take her inside. Then she walked into the hospital, and listened as the nurses cooed over Melody, and spoke of adoption options. Bad Wolf smiled to herself, before slipping out of the hospital again.

            Back into the TARDIS, she jumped forward about four years, and went to the local park. She sat there every day for three days until she heard a parent calling “Melody!” Bad Wolf turned towards the voice, and smiled as she saw a young, healthy girl running around the playground. She was playing with a small red-haired girl, and Bad Wolf chuckled. Melody would make friends with her mother.

            She left the park and returned to her TARDIS. Her hands hesitated over the controls, before she jumped forward another ten years. She needed to explain to Melody some things, before the girl accidentally regenerated.

            Bad Wolf sat on a bench across from the only school in the small town, which taught both primary and secondary school. She was too late to catch Melody going to school, and too early for her to be out yet, but she didn’t mind waiting.

            It wasn’t as if she didn’t have time to spare.

            She’d only been there about an hour, when she saw someone climb over the fence, and start off down the sidewalk. Bad Wolf frowned. She was about the right age…and she sort of looked like the four-year-old…maybe?

            “Melody!” She called, and watched as the girl spun around, her eyes wide. Bad Wolf smiled; she knew that look. It was the look of someone afraid they’d been caught cutting school. Bad Wolf jogged over to the girl, who narrowed her eyes at her approach.

            “Listen lady, I don’t know how you know me, but I’m…” Melody trailed off, looking at Bad Wolf in confusion. “I know you. How do I know you?” She muttered.

            “Don’t suppose Aunt Lupine rings any bells?” Bad Wolf asked, raising an eyebrow.

            Melody’s eyes widened. “You’re real!” She yelped.

            “’Course!” Bad Wolf said with a grin.

            “I thought I was crazy…or that it was all a dream…but you’re real…” Melody murmured, then glared at Bad Wolf. “What did you do to me?” She demanded angrily.

            Bad Wolf raised an eyebrow. “’Scuse me?”

            “One minute I’m seven, an’ sick, an’ an’ _dying_ , then there’s all this gold light, an’ then everything gets all foggy, but I’m _different_. What did you do to me?!” Melody sounds a bit hysterical now.

            Bad Wolf holds her hands up in surrender. “It wasn’t me, I promise. That was…Oh, this is going to be hard to explain,” she rubs a hand over her face, “um. Okay. You’re different, Melody—”

            “Mels,” Melody inttrupted.

            “Sorry?” Bad Wolf asks, confused.

            “Mels, I go by Mels,” Mels glared at her.

            “Um. Right. Okay. Mels. Right. As I was saying, you’re different. The golden light you remember? That’s natural. For you, anyway. If you come with me for a moment, I can explain better,” Bad Wolf said, exasperated with her own inability to explain alien heritage to a teenager.

            “An’ why the bloody hell would I go with some strange woman I’ve never met?” Mels snapped.

            Bad Wolf frowned. “Language!” She scolded. Mels scoffed and Bad Wolf sighed. “Right, right, okay. Time Lords, what’s different about Time Lords?” She muttered to herself, causing Mels to raise an eyebrow. “Two hearts! No, no, she was univascular before…respiratory bypass?” Bad Wolf paused to look Mels over. “Probably not; if she didn’t get the extra heart…” she trailed off, and realized Mels was looking at her like she was a nutter. “I’m talking out loud, aren’t I?” She asked. Mels nodded. “Right. Look, I can prove everything I’m saying if you come with me. It’s only down the road,” she said loudly, interrupting Mels protests, “and all you’d have to do is look through a door. C’mon…don’t you want to know what happened all those years ago?” She grinned, hoping to entice the girl’s curiosity.

            Mels glared at her for a moment before sighing. “Fine. But I’m telling you, try anything weird, and I’m outta there. Got it?” She snapped.

            Bad Wolf smiled crookedly; she got the feeling Mels had more of her mother in her than her father. “Got it. C’mon then!” She said cheerfully, and led the way to where she’d parked the TARDIS. She unlocked the door, and pushed it inside. “Have a look, then,” she said, watching Mels carefully.

            Mels glared at her, but Bad Wolf could tell she felt uneasy. Mels looked inside, and frowned. She backed away to look through the window the door was attached to; it was a butcher’s shop. She went back to the door. “How--?”

            “She’s called a TARDIS. Time And Relative Dimensions In Space. She’s my ship, and this is where you regenerated fourteen years ago,” Bad Wolf explained gently.

            Mels hesitantly stepped inside, looking around in awe. “Are you an alien?” She asked, turning to face Bad Wolf abruptly.

            Bad Wolf shrugged. “Kinda. But then, so are you,” she explained, shutting the door and sitting on the jump seat.

            “Whatdaya mean I’m an alien?” Mels demanded, the glare that Bad Wolf was starting to realize was her everyday look firmly in place.

            “So far as I can tell, you’re half Time Lord. Don’t quite know how you managed that, since I know your parents, and neither one is a Time Lord,” Bad Wolf frowned, still confused.

            “You know my parents?” Mels asked eagerly, stepping closer. Bad Wolf noted idly that her glare had disappeared for the first time.

            “Yeah, I do. I’ll tell you about them when you’re a bit more…caught up on everything,” she said with a smile. Mels glare came back; Bad Wolf chuckled, then sobered. “Your history is unusually long for someone so young, little one. And so full of pain…” the last part was whispered, and Bad Wolf’s eyes unfocused for a moment before she shook herself and returned her gaze to Mels. “I can tell you everything now, or, if you don’t think you’re ready, I can wait,” she said seriously.

            Mels opened her mouth to answer, but Bad Wolf cut her off. “Just remember: some things can’t be unlearned.”

            Mels paused. “Tell me what I am, and then I’ll decide if I want to know more,” she said eventually, moving to sit on the ground across from Bad Wolf.

            Bad Wolf smiled. “Wise choice. Like I said, you’re half Time Lord, which means…” Bad Wolf proceeded to tell her about regeneration and everything that that entailed. After a series of questions, she realized that Mels could also sense timelines, though only faintly. It was a new ability, though, so Bad Wolf was pretty sure it would get stronger. They talked for hours, Mels asking questions and Bad Wolf answering as best she could. In the end, Mels decided she wasn’t ready to know who her parents were, or the conditions surrounding her birth.

            “It’s a lot to take in as it is, y’know?” She asked, standing near the door.

            Bad Wolf nodded. “I know. I’ll pop back in and check on you every so often; make sure you’re staying out of trouble and _going to school_ ,” she fixed her best stern parent look on her face there, “and I’ll answer your questions along the way. Just let me know when you’re ready for everything.”

            Mels nodded. “’Kay,” she hesitated, then “Do I really have to call you Aunt Lupine? It’s a weird name. And you’re not my aunt,” her eyes widened, “are you?”

            Bad Wolf laughed. “No, kid, I’m not your aunt. Though, I suppose it is time for a new name…how about…Accalia?” She suggested.

            Mels stared at her blankly. “Because that’s more normal. I’ll call you Cali,” she said, sounding resigned.

            Accalia snorted. “Whatever works for you, kid,” she said, shaking her head as she followed Mels out. “I’ll be around, kay?” She waited until Mels nodded, then went back into her TARDIS.


	15. Chapter 14

            Accalia returned to Ledworth every few months or so, basically whenever she got bored or lonely: which was more often than she’d like to admit. Mels grew on her quickly, despite her typical rebellious teenage attitude. She thought of the girl as a little sister, or a niece. She’d like to think that under more normal circumstances (much, much more normal) that Mels would have grown up calling her Aunt. She hoped she and Rory were that close, anyway.

            As it was, Accalia warmed to Mels much more quickly than Mels warmed to Accalia.

            “How is it that you manage to show up _every time_ I cut classes?” Mels snapped one day, throwing her bag on the ground before throwing herself into the jump seat. Mels always came over after school was out when Accalia was in town.

            Accalia smirked. “Just good timing, I s’pose,” she said airily, and sent a mental thank you to the TARDIS, who hummed in response.

            Mels huffed, and glared at the time rotor. Accalia raised an eyebrow. “You seem to be in a worse mood than usual,” she commented wryly, and forced back a laugh when Mels aimed her glare at her instead.

            “Dunno what you’re talking about,” Mels muttered

            Accalia moved to lean on the console in front of Mels. “Well, you’re always surly,” she ignored the pointed glare, “but you’ve usually started asking questions by now.”

            Mels looked away, and Accalia swore she could see the barest hints of a blush coloring Mels’ cheeks. “’S nothing,” she muttered. Accalia stared at Mels, waiting. “Fine!” Mels snapped after a few moments. Accalia smiled; she had this girl _down_. “There’s this stupid dance comin’ up. I don’t wanna go in first place. But Amy’s makin’ me go with her. An’ an’…” Mels trailed off, and resumed glaring at the time rotor.

            “And no one’s asked you,” Accalia said, understanding. Mels remained silent.

            Accalia chuckled, earning herself a more furious glare than usual. “I could tell you what my mum told me, that boys are just intimidated by your drop dead looks, but seeing as it didn’t make me feel any better, I won’t bother. What I will tell you is that when you go—cause you and I both know you won’t let Amy down—make sure you make every single boy there regrets not asking you. Make sure they know what they’re missing.”

            “An’ how exactly do I do that?” Mels asked, sounding skeptical but a little intrigued.

            “By looking amazing of course!” Accalia said, grinning, and moving away from the console. “Now, normally, I would say wow them with your smarts; always the best way to do it. But it’s rather difficult to show off your brain at a dance, unless you start shouting formulas and theories on the dance floor, but that’s generally frowned upon. Or so I’ve been told. So we’ll stick with looks for now,” Accalia chattered as she pulled a very reluctant Mels down one of the many hallways of the TARDIS.

            “Where are we goin’?” Mels asked, annoyance coloring her tone.

            Accalia turned to her and grinned, before throwing a set of double doors open. “My closet,” she said gleefully to the stunned Mels.

            It was as big as, if not bigger than, the closet on the Doctor’s TARDIS, and better stocked, in Accalia’s opinion. “Right, what year is this? 2007? Formal dance? Okay! Third floor, west wing, section Q…” Accalia muttered, dragging the staring Mels along behind her. She stopped when they got to the section Accalia was looking for, and Mels’ eyes went wide. “Why do you have all these?” She asked distractedly as she pawed through the dresses.

            Accalia shrugged. “Dunno. So far as I can tell, the TARDIS just likes to collect things. Clothes, books, knick knacks, people…” Mels turned to give her a wide eyed look. “She’s always after me to take on a companion,” Accalia said by way of explanation, flapping her hand as if to dismiss the topic. “Start trying things on! I think gold would look good on you. Or maybe pink…definitely not pink,” she sighed at the look Mels gave her. “But green might be nice,” she added.

            They spent the next three hours sifting through the dresses, dismissing some on the basis of color, and others on sheer poofiness. There were a few Accalia ruled out because of how revealing they were (“But you told me to wow them!”), and some that Mels ruled out because of how overly modest they were. Eventually, they both came to an agreement.

            “I told you you’d look good in gold!” Accalia gushed. Even Mels smiled a bit. The dress they’d chosen was a Greek styled floor length gold dress, with an embellished empire waist and a back that was bare until mid-spine. The skirt was long and pleated, but not full because Mels had a personal vendetta against the “princess look.”

            “I really look okay?” Mels asked, almost shyly.

            Accalia grinned at her, her tongue caught between her teeth. “You look beautiful. Even more than the goddess Fortuna herself!” Accalia grinned at Mels’ blank look. “I’ll tell you some other time.”

            They boxed the dress up, and Mels left shortly thereafter.

            Accalia returned the night of the dance, near the school. She didn’t expect Mels to come see her, but she hoped to catch a glimpse of her all dressed up. She sat on the same bench she had the first time she’d approached Mels, and waited.

            It wasn’t long before the parade of teenagers started. A few drove, but most walked since it was such a small town. None of the girls that walked past looked as pretty as Mels had; not in Accalia’s opinion.

            Accalia’s eyes lit up as she spotted Mels across the street, walking with what only could be Amy. Mels looked even more beautiful in the dress than she had when she’d first tried it on. She’d done most of her hair up in an elegant bun, leaving a few locks of hair down to curl around her shoulders. Her make-up was mostly light, but her eyelids were bright gold. Accalia approved overall.

            Accalia was about to leave when Mels caught sight of her, and, after a few words to Amy, hurried across the street.

            “You came,” she said breathlessly.

            Accalia grinned. “’Course! Couldn’t miss seeing you all dolled up, now could I?”

            Mels grinned at her; the first time she’d done so without prompting. “Thank you. For the dress, everything. I never thanked you before, so, thank you,” she said sincerely.

            Accalia’s smile softened. “Any time, kid.”

            “Mels, hurry up, it’s starting!” Amy called, crossing the street to them.

            “Hello, Amy Pond!” Accalia said with a grin.

            “Um, hi. Who’re you?” Amy asked skeptically.

            “Mels’ Aunt Cali—”

            “Not my aunt,” Mels muttered, good will apparently ending.

            “Close enough! You two should go. I’ll see you later, Mels!” Accalia grinned at her one last time before turning to leave. Mels surprised her by giving her a quick, albeit slightly awkward, hug, before dashing off with Amy. Accalia watched them leave, a small smile on her face.

            They got along better after that, and Mels slowly started opening up more to Accalia. She told her about her issues in school (it was too boring and strict, plus, half the teachers hated her), her issues with her friends (Amy and Rory and their blind insistence that they didn’t have a crush on the other), and her hopes and dreams (the repetition of which would be met with a swift and merciless death).

            Accalia told her of some of her adventures in return, and answered any questions she had. Things got hard once Mels’ Time Lord half abilities developed fully—she could sense the wrongness of Accalia.

            It devolved into a shouting match, and it wasn’t one of Accalia’s proudest moments, but eventually, Mels let her explain and the two fixed their relationship.

            Accalia still insisted upon calling herself Mels’ aunt, and Mels still insisted Accalia wasn’t her aunt. There were a few more rushed meetings with Amy, who thought Accalia was cool, if odd.

            It wasn’t until Mels was eighteen that she decided she wanted to know who her parents were.

            “You’re sure you’re ready? It’s going to come as a shock; seriously, probably last thing you’ll be expecting,” Accalia warned.

            “I’m ready,” Mels said firmly.

            “Right. Okay. So. Your parents…they’re…well, they’re Amy and Rory,” Accalia said, watching Mels closely.

            Mels was quiet for a moment, before a slow smile spread over her face. “I knew it!” She yelled, punching the air.

            Accalia blinked. “S’cuse me?” She asked, bewildered.

            “Well, I didn’t really _know_ they were my parents,” she admitted. “I knew I had to be related to Amy somehow, ‘cause you knew her last name and other stuff about her. Plus, you’re always asking after Rory, and I don’t talk about him near as much. But I knew they were going to get together. Eventually,” she explained with a shrug, still grinning.

            Accalia shook her head, sitting down. “You’re too smart for your own good. Yeah, they get together eventually, though Rory said they got a push from their best friend,” she paused, glancing at Mels. “Oh,” she muttered.

            Mels laughed. “I’ll shove ‘em if that’s what it takes!”

            Accalia smiled, shaking her head.

            “But how come I’m a half Time Lord thingy, if they’re both still human?” Mels asked curiously.

            Accalia shrugged. “I dunno, kid, I’m still trying to work that part out.” They fell silent for a moment. “So, have you figured out what you want to do after you graduate?” Accalia asked casually.

            Mels blinked, apparently surprised from being drawn out of her thoughts. “Yeah, actually,” she said, and grinned in a way that frightened Accalia a little. “I want to travel with you!” She exclaimed.

            Accalia made several faces that made her look like a fish.

            “Oh, come on. It’s not like I can stay here forever, I’m gonna stop aging here, soon. I don’t fit in down here, never have! But out there…out there I could be something, someone,” Mels said wistfully.

            Accalia recognized that tone, that look. It was the look of a girl who saw the way out of a mundane life. It was the look she’d worn when she first started traveling with the Doctor.

            “It’ll be dangerous,” Accalia said lamely, already knowing this was a battle she would lose.

            “And you can teach me to look out for myself. C’mon, I know you have a black belt in, like, every type of martial arts known to man. And Alien.”

            Accalia rubbed her head. _‘Looks like you’re getting that companion you’ve always wanted’_ she thought at the TARDIS, who hummed in a distinctly gloating manner. Accalia glared at the time rotor, before sighing and looking at Mels. “Alright, fine, yes, you can come,” she acquiesced, smiling slightly.

            Mels laughed. “Oh, I know. I was just waiting for you to realize,” she said cheekily.

            “Oi!” Accalia said, mock glaring before breaking down into laughter. “Alright, alright. Off my ship, you’ve still got a few weeks left of school!”

            She smiled as she watched Mels leave, then sighed. She needed to visit Rory.

            She looked him up on the TARDIS, trying to find the point in his Timeline that matched up with hers. She frowned when she noticed he’d moved, but shrugged and sent the TARDIS to his backyard, where it attached itself to a shed.

            She stepped out, and barely had the chance to look around before she was tackled by someone with rather large, blonde hair.

            “Oh, hello, yes, nice to see you, too, person I don’t know,” She muttered around the hair, spitting a few curls out.

            The person finally pulled back, allowing Accalia to see her face. Thirties or so, pretty, great hair. “Aunt Cali, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me already?” The woman admonished with a cheeky grin.

            Accalia’s eyes widened. “Mels?” She whispered. “Mels!” She shrieked, and immediately went about examining Mels’ new body, picking up bits of her hair as she inspected her. “When’d you regenerate? No, don’t tell me. Spoilers and what not. I like it, especially the hair!” She grinned.

            Mels hugged her again. “Oh, it’s been so long! I actually go by River, now, River Song. Where’ve you been, anyway? Oh, I guess you wouldn’t know. You sound like you just came from my last body. Where are we?”

            Accalia raised an eyebrow. “River Song? Well, alright. I s’pose I can’t judge, I’ve gone through a lot of names myself…right! I just left you after agreeing to take you traveling with me!” She grinned and River smiled fondly. “But what are you doing at Rory and Amy’s house?” She asked, frowning in confusion. She heard someone clear their throat, and looked over River’s shoulder. “Oh. Hi Amy! Sorry to just pop in uninvited!”

            Amy was looking at her in confusion. “Cali, right? How’d you get here?” She asked.

            “Well—” Accalia started, but was cut off as another voice called out, “What’s going on out here?” followed shortly thereafter by Rory.

            Rory froze. “Larentia?” He asked, then ran over and hugged her.

            “Oh, hello, Rory!” Accalia smiled, hugging him back.

            “Wait, I’m confused, I thought your name was Cali?” Amy asked, brow furrowing as she watched her husband hug her daughter’s strange Aunt Cali…who hadn’t aged at all since the last time Amy had seen her.

            “Wait, you know Amy? Now I’m confused,” Rory frowned, pulling back.

            “I’m not confused!” River grinned.

            “Uh, right. Okay. First off, Rory, I changed my name to Accalia. Cali for short, though Mels, er, River, I s’pose, is really the only person that calls me that. Amy, I knew Rory while he was a Roman, but I went by Larentia then,” she said, looking back and forth between the couple.

            “Oh, you’re the woman Rory was talking about!” Amy said, the confusion clearing from her face.

            “Oh, okay, you told her about that, good. Saves me explanations,” Accalia said to Rory with relief. “Right, so, Amy knows me because I was the aunt of Mels. Well, adopted aunt. Well, forced adopted aunt.” She shrugged.

            Rory still looked confused. “Mels? How do you know Mels?” He asked, and Amy nodded.

            “Oh, can I do this part?” River asked, jumping into the conversation again.

            “Be my guest, I get the feeling that the tenses are going to give me a headache,” Accalia muttered.

            “So, you both know I was taken to an orphanage by Accalia here—”

            “Not quite, I had a friend take you. I was…otherwise engaged,” Accalia interjected.

            “Sweetie, they know what happened,” River whispered to Accalia.

            “Oh…” Accalia muttered, refusing to make eye contact with anyone. She’d kind of hoped Rory and Amy would never find out about that; they’d been there when the Doctor had “died;” they’d seen her “kill” him. It wasn’t the image she wanted them, Rory especially, to have of her.

            She felt someone move closer to her, and an arm draped around her shoulders in a one armed hug. She glanced up, and Rory smiled at her reassuringly. She smiled back hesitantly.

            “As I was saying,” River continued, ignoring them both, “Accalia had me sent to an orphanage. The Silence found me there, but I was sick. They were going to let me die, just so they could see if I regenerated or not; they wanted to make sure I was the right kid.”

            _‘Oh,’_ Accalia thought to herself in understanding; she’d always wondered about that.

            “But Cali showed up and took me away in her TARDIS before that happened. It was too late for that body, though. I regenerated on her ship, and since I didn’t have any idea how to control it, I regenerated into a baby,” River continued. Amy and Rory were riveted, and Accalia bit her lip to hold back a smile; she couldn’t wait until they figured out River had been their childhood friend.

            “She couldn’t take care of me, obviously, so she took me somewhere she knew I’d be safe, where I’d be happy,” River grinned at Accalia, and she returned it full force.

            “Where?” Amy asked, impatient.

            “Ledworth,” Accalia said, still smiling at River.

            “Ledworth?” Rory asked, confused still. Accalia felt bad for him, poor guy had no clue what was happening today.

            “Ledworth,” River agreed. “I grew up there, went to school there, went to a few dances there,” she winked at Accalia, “and then I left to go traveling with Accalia.”

            “Wait a minute,” Amy frowned, and Accalia recognized the look of someone putting the pieces together. “Ledworth. Melody. Mels.” She dropped her face into her palms. “I named my daughter after my daughter,” she muttered, her voice muffled by her hands.

            “I give up,” Rory muttered.

            Accalia took pity on him, and turned to face him. “I took River, Melody, at the time, to Ledworth. She started calling herself Mels…” she trailed off, waiting for the penny to drop.

            She laughed when Rory got it, the light bulb almost visibly appearing over his head. “Oh my god…” he muttered, staring at River, who was trying not to laugh herself.

            And then Accalia was being hugged by both parents and not entirely sure what to do about it. “Oh, hi, yep, you’re welcome,” she muttered into their shoulders.

            Amy was the first to pull away. “I owe you. For the rest of my life,” Rory whispered before he pulled away. Accalia smiled softly at him. “Right, now you need to tell us what happened at Demons Run,” Rory said, his face darkening.

            Accalia paled, but nodded. “Alright, but we should sit down. It’s kind of a long story…”


	16. Chapter 15

The Pond family (“Williams!”) plus Accalia moved into the living room, where Amy and Rory sat on a couch, Accalia in a chair, and River leaned against the wall near the door that led to the kitchen.

Accalia fiddled with her hands for a moment, chewing on her lip, before she started. “I got instructions—I don’t know who they were from—a few weeks before I ran into you, Rory, on the Cybership. They told me that when it was time to go to Demons Run, I needed to be an hour late, and that I was to stay out of the main fight. I didn’t know if I could trust the instructions, or whomever sent them to me, but they mentioned a baby, and I couldn’t take the chance that Melody, River, would be hurt. So I did what I was told,” Accalia explained, stubbornly refusing to make eye contact with anyone.

“I found Madame Kovarian with Melody, and I knocked her and her guards out. I was just about to leave when Jack, a friend of mine, showed up, and told me he was supposed to take Melody to an orphanage. Before I could really ask him anything about it, Kovarian tased me; apparently I hadn’t knocked her out, just stunned her for a bit. Well, Jack left with Melody, and Kovarian took me instead,” Accalia drew in a deep breath before plunging on, talking quickly now.

“They put me in suit; it looked like a space suit. It controlled my movements; it was wired into my system so I had no control over anything; it even absorbed sunlight and transferred it as nutrients into my system. I couldn’t do anything,” she was pleading for understanding now, and they all knew it. Still, she refused to make eye contact with anyone in the room.

“They put me in Lake Silencio. I stayed down there for a while, then the suit took me to the surface. I shot the Doctor once, then again while he was still regenerating. You all saw what happened then. Kovarian and the Silence collected me from the lake and took me back to Demons Run, and took me out of the suit,” she stopped there, waiting for her verdict.

“What did you do after that?” Rory asked gently. Accalia was encouraged when she didn’t hear any judgment in his voice. She looked up at him hesitantly.

“I…kind of lost it. The good news is you shouldn’t have to worry about the Silence anymore,” she smiled slightly at that memory. “I went to the Doctor’s TARDIS; I didn’t want her left alone with the Doctor dead. The plan was to give her to my friend Jack—he probably would’ve been able to figure out how to fly her—and then I was going to kill the Silence. The Doctor showed up and, after convincing me I wasn’t hallucinating, told me he wasn’t dead. I, er, kind of shouted at him for a while after that. Then I left and went to check on Melody,” she finished.

She glanced at the people in the room, gauging their reactions. Amy looked mostly sad, but there was definitely some anger there. Rory and River just looked angry. Accalia looked back down and waited to get chewed out for killing the Doctor.

“Quick question,” Amy said suddenly. “How exactly where you going to kill the Silence?”

Accalia looked up and winced. “I, uh, was going absorb the time vortex and become something rather close to a god,” she muttered.

Rory snorted. “You were a bit mad, weren’t you?” He teased, though Accalia could still see the anger in him.

She smiled hesitantly. “It actually wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done it,” she admitted. “Story for another time,” she added hastily at the looks she was getting.

“What I want to know,” River said suddenly, looking furious, “is why the Doctor didn’t tell you he would be fine. I remember watching all that; he stood there and talked to you for a few minutes before the suit shot him—” Accalia appreciated River saying the suit shot him “—he should’ve been able to let you know what was happening!”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Rory muttered, Amy nodding in agreement.

Accalia looked around the room, wide eyed. They weren’t mad at her. They didn’t hate her for killing the Doctor, even if it was a fake. She laughed suddenly, and, even though everyone was giving her bewildered and worried looks, didn’t stop until she was crying and hiccupping.

“You sure you’re not still mad?” River asked, raising an eyebrow as Accalia finally started to calm down.

“I—hic— was so worried that you all –hic—were going to hate me for shooting the Doctor, and here –hic—you’re all mad at him!” She chuckled, trying to keep from bursting into laughter again. It wasn’t so much that she thought the situation was funny, it was more she was just incredibly relieved.

“Oh sweetie,” River murmured, coming over to hug her.

“S’not like you had any control over your actions, we couldn’t be mad at you,” Amy shrugged, smiling at Accalia reassuringly. “That idiot who doesn’t tell anyone anything, on the other hand…” she muttered. Accalia made a mental note to stay on Amy’s good side.

Rory just smiled at her reassuringly. Accalia wanted to cry from the relief she felt, but she held it in.

She stayed a bit longer, catching up on all their lives—though there were some things River refused to tell her because spoilers—and laughing at a few stories.

“I should go. Have to show your daughter the stars and what not,” she grinned at Amy and Rory.

“I’ll walk you to the TARDIS,” River volunteered hastily.

Accalia looked at her curiously, but River shook her head surreptitiously, and led the way to the TARDIS. She waited until they were right in front of the red door before turning to face Accalia.

“I wrote you the instructions,” River said without preamble.

Accalia’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

“You told me to when I was still traveling with you, shortly after I regenerated. You wouldn’t tell me why; I think it’s because you knew that I knew what you would go through as a result of those instructions, I wouldn’t do it. You didn’t tell me until later what they were for. I didn’t talk to you for three days after that,” River smiled sadly. “But you also told me that I was supposed to tell you this when I saw you after you’d shot the tesselecta. You have a choice, Cali,” River said, grabbing Accalia’s hands. “You can chose not to tell me to write those instructions. If you do, you’ll never have to go through everything you just went through.”

Accalia stared at River, realizing what she was being offered. “If I don’t, though, you’ll be raised by the Silence. You’ll be the one who shoots the Doctor.” Accalia shook her head.

“I won’t do that to you,” she smiled, squeezing River’s hands.

River frowned, and shook her head, crazy hair bouncing. “Don’t worry about me, I’m tough, I’ll survive.”

Accalia raised an eyebrow. “What, and I’m not?” She chided. River opened her mouth to retort, but Accalia held up a hand to silence her. “As your self-proclaimed Aunt, it’s my job to keep you safe from people like the Silence. Even if I get hurt in the process.” She gave a lopsided smile. “And it’s a job I’m happy to do,” She added, kissing River’s forehead. “Now, I better go. I may have a time machine, but I can imagine younger you will be impatient no matter when I get there,” she rolled her eyes, then grinned and waved goodbye, stepping into the TARDIS.

River watched the TARDIS disappear, smiling sadly. Her younger self had no idea who she was traveling with.

She’d started to walk back to the house when she heard the wheezing noise that signaled the Doctor’s TARDIS was arriving; and it sounded like it was coming from the living room. She ran back to the house, and by the time she’d got there, the Doctor was already on the ground, rubbing his jaw. Rory was shaking out his hand, and Amy was yelling at the Doctor for being an “arse,” a “numpty,” and a “stupid idiot with bad communication skills.” River decided to chew the Doctor out later.

“How do you all even know Rose!” The Doctor yelled when Amy paused to breathe.

“How many names does she have?” Rory muttered to himself. The others ignored him.

“When I met her she was Accalia, and she has, so far, kept Rory sane while he was a Roman, saved River from the Silence, and, finally, kept an eye on her while she was growing up. She is officially under my protection you better damn well make sure you never bloody hurt her again!” Amy snapped, before plopping into a chair with a huff.

The Doctor just stared at her, then at Rory and River for confirmation. “She called herself Larentia with me, but yeah, what Amy said,” Rory shrugged, still glaring at the Doctor, but not nearly as fiercely as Amy.

“She actually called herself Lupine when I first met her, but I kinda made her change it. She went with Accalia after that,” River added.

The Doctor shook his head, chuckling. Amy’s glare intensified, and River wondered idly how much more the Doctor could endure before bursting into flames.

“And what’s so funny?” Amy snapped.

“Larentia, Lupine, Accalia. All have to do with wolves,” he explained, still grinning. He finally picked himself off the floor. “She’s got a reputation in this universe as the Bad Wolf,” he explained when none of the others seemed to see the humor.

“How do you know her, Doctor?” Rory asked curiously. Apparently now that he’d punched the Doctor and Amy had chewed him out, he was done with being angry at the Doctor.

“We used to travel together a…a long time ago,” the Doctor murmured, looking away. He shook himself. “But we were separated. Permanently, I thought. But she, uh, found her way back. I messed up with her, a lot, and I want to fix it. I _need_ to fix it,” he explained, desperation creeping into his voice.

“You love her,” River observed, a bit surprised.

The Doctor didn’t say anything.

“What, you?” Amy exclaimed, thoroughly surprised. “I always kinda thought you were…asexual. Or, at the very least, not…into women.”

The Doctor glared at her. “And what gave you that impression. Don’t answer that!” He added quickly, when Amy opened her mouth to respond. He dragged a hand through his hair, a holdover from his last body. “Yes I…loved her. But there were… are…complications.” The others looked at him expectantly, and he sighed, before sitting down and telling them the story. The _whole_ story: how he and Rose met, how he fell in love with her, how she absorbed the time vortex to save him, how he regenerated, how they kept traveling, how he left her alone on a dead ship, how she was separated from him, how she came back and helped him save the world, how he was cloned, and, finally, how he left Rose and the metacrisis on a beach in a parallel universe, never to be seen again. He left out how Rose had gotten back to this universe; he got the feeling that that was not his story to tell. But he did tell them how he’d seen her when his timeline was being unwound, and how he’d screwed up with her at Lake Silencio.

“And I’ve been trying to find her ever since,” he finished tiredly, rubbing his face.

The room was silent as they all absorbed the story of Rose Tyler.

“I like her,” Amy declared, breaking the silence. “I mean, I liked her before,” she added when everyone turned to look at her, “but I really like her now. She’s a bad ass,” Amy grinned.

Rory snorted and put his arm around his wife’s shoulders.

“Right. Did she happen to tell you where she’s going?” The Doctor asked, giving Amy a look.

“I know everywhere she’s going to be for a while,” River said, watching the Doctor. Before the hope built up too much in his eyes, she continued, “She’s going traveling with a younger version of myself. And, seeing as I don’t remember you ever showing up during any of those adventures, I don’t think you’re meant to find her just yet,” she said the last part with an apologetic smile.

The Doctor looked like he was considering putting his head through a wall.

“I’ve been trying to get her to talk to you since I knew her,” Rory said suddenly, causing the Doctor’s head to swivel towards him at an alarming rate. “She either sidestepped the question, or said you wouldn’t want to see her. I think she’s definitely still angry at you, but I think she’s a little afraid of how you’ll react to her, as well.”

The Doctor’s eyes widened. “But why…she knows I could never hate her, or be mad at her, or…” he trailed off helplessly.

Rory shook his head. “Obviously not. But give her time, I think…I think she’ll come to you on her own, eventually.”

The Doctor looked very not okay with this idea, but didn’t comment. Partly because he knew his response wouldn’t go over very well with anyone in the room, and partly because he didn’t want to waste his breath arguing. He’d already decided he would find his Rose, and nothing was going to stop him.


	17. Chapter 16

            While the Doctor was distracted with some improbable reptiles on a space ship set to have a meeting with some missiles, Accalia made her way back to Mels in Ledworth. The TARDIS had barely finished materializing when Mels burst through the doors, still wearing her cap and gown and carrying her diploma, a grin the size of Texas planted firmly on her face.

            Accalia frowned. “Oh, I missed seeing you walk!” She exclaimed unhappily.

            Mels shrugged and waved her off. “You didn’t miss much. I basically ran across the stage, don’t think I stopped to shake the principal’s hand, come to think of it…” she mused, then shrugged. She tossed her cap aside, shedding her gown as well, revealing she was in jeans and a t-shirt with a leather vest over it underneath.

            Accalia raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you supposed to wear a dress or something under that?” She admonished, barely holding back a smile of her own.

            Mels rolled her eyes. “The deal was I’d graduate. And I did. Don’t go picking on my clothes now.”

            Accalia laughed, then grinned at Mels. “Alright. Rules first,” she ignored Mels’ groaning, “First rule: don’t wander off. Second rule: no interfering with fixed events or anything that might damage the time stream, and yes,” she narrowed her eyes slightly at Mels, “that means no killing Hitler.” Mels huffed and looked away. “Third rule: please, for the love of god, don’t get pregnant or bring any one night stands on the TARDIS. Your parents would kill me, and, frankly, your mother frightens me.”

            Mels looked interested now. “You know my parents?” She asked curiously.

            “Yes, I’m rather close with your father. Not as much with Amy, but I’d like to think we’re friends. Moving right along!” She said loudly to stop Mels from asking questions. “Fifth rule and last rule: do what I tell you,” she said seriously. “If I say that we have to leave, _now_ , then we leave. Even if it means that someone will die, or something bad will happen to a planet. When I say we’re done, we’re done. Understand?” Mels nodded, though Accalia got the feeling it wasn’t going to be as simple as that should the occasion arise. “Right then. We’re off!”

 

            The Doctor had just dropped Amy and Rory off at their home, and was back on the search for Rose. It was amazing how much more he was finding in his search for her now that he knew the names she’d been using.

            He’d started planet hopping, looking for any signs of Rose. He talked to the locals, and several times, they told him about a mysterious woman who went by Larentia or Accalia, who had saved them from disaster /tyrannical leaders/monsters/plague/the list went on and on. The Doctor couldn’t help the proud smile that spread across his features every time he heard someone singing his Rose’s praises. She’d helped so many people in such a short time…that was his Rose, always had to help those in need.

            He had to be careful, of course. The universe was supposed to think he was dead. He stuck to the shadows, mostly, kept the TARDIS out of sight. He tried not to interfere with anything too big (tried being the key word), and to keep his name out of the mouths of others.

            It was during one of these trips for information on Rose that he ended up on a little asteroid caught in orbit around a moon in the Lonely Nebula. The Lonely Nebula was about as far away from any other civilization as one could get, hence the name. There was a small settlement on the asteroid, though it was filled mostly with escaped convicts. The Doctor figured if there was any place bound to have trouble, it would be here. And Rose loved trouble.

            He wore a cloak with the hood pulled low over his face; it both allowed him to blend in—an asteroid full of wanted criminals was bound to have plenty of people keeping their faces covered—and the obvious of keeping his identity a secret.

            He decided very quickly that he didn’t like it on this asteroid; there were too many people he’d pissed off. But he kept his head low and his ears open and meandered through the crowds, listening for anyone who mentioned any of Rose’s many names.

            It wasn’t until he’d gone into a seedy bar—they made fun of him for ordering tea!—that he heard someone mention the name “Larentia.” As casually as he was able—which is to say, as obviously as possible—he moved closer to the group in the corner, and listened in.

            “I say we kill the bitch,” grumbled one voice.

            “An’ how exactly do ya plan to do that? She kicked yer ass last time you tried!” Another voice snapped back.

            “Well if we all went after her!” The first voice argued back petulantly.

            “Then we’d all get our asses handed to us!” A new voice growled.

            “She’s just one bloody person!” Another voice interjected.

            “I hear she can’t die.” The Doctor glanced towards this voice, and saw what looked like an old man, but with a few more fangs.

            The others scoffed at this. “Right old man, just like I’m sure she’s also the Bad Wolf.” They all returned to their original discussion, ignoring the old man’s grumble of “It’s yer funeral.”

            The Doctor continued to listen to the thugs argue, growing angrier by the second as they all started taking part in a very vivid discussion of all the ways they’d kill his Rose if they got the chance. They also discussed doing…other…things to her, and the Doctor was on the verge of blowing up the whole damn asteroid.

            Eventually they dispersed, most laughing off the conversation, but a small group of three had decided they would try and kill the infamous Larentia.

            The Doctor quietly followed them, reminding himself over and over again that he couldn’t kill them. He could however, knock them out and drag them over to Stormcage.

            Which, through the clever use of a spatula, a bottle of oil, a match, and a screaming child, was what he did.

            He left them in a hall somewhere, with a rather detailed list of their offences (he may have run their faces through the TARDIS databanks and found every crime they’d ever committed), then left before anyone could notice him.

            He shook his head back on board the TARDIS. His Rose was making enemies. True, the bunch of idiots he’d just caught weren’t overly threatening, but he was sure there were worse. The Doctor was worried. Rose couldn’t die, he knew, but she could still be hurt, or tortured, or…there were too many or-s.

            And so, after that quick mini adventure, the Doctor began to quietly deal with anyone who planned to hurt his Rose.

           

            As they walked back onto the TARDIS, Accalia wasn’t sure if she should be laughing or shouting at Mels’ recent exploits. They’d gone to a relatively peaceful planet just to attend the local harvest festival. Everything was going along swimmingly until Mels somehow managed to get herself engaged to young man (who vaguely resembled a fish in that he was covered in scales), breaking off a previous engagement in the process. The next thing Accalia knew, there was a feud going on between the two families to rival that of the Hatfield’s and the McCoy’s. Though, perhaps Capulet’s and Montague’s were more appropriate. In the end, Accalia had to step in and explain everything, give each family what passed for a chicken on their planet (it had teeth. Teeth!), and promise that she and Mels would never return.

            “So…that was fun,” Mels stated idly, running a finger over the console.

            Accalia raised an eyebrow. “Fun? You almost started a war!” She exclaimed. Though, oddly enough, she still wasn’t entirely sure if she found the whole event amusing or not.

            “Almost! And now that poor fish-girl knows what she’s getting into with fish-boy. Honestly, he came on to me! At least…I think so. Still not entirely sure when I agreed to marry him…” Mels trailed off, frowning slightly.

            And with that Accalia burst into laughter. “Okay, this is why I said not to wander off,” she choked out after a moment, still giggling. Mels grinned back at her.

            “Yes Auntie dearest,” she said in a sugar sweet voice that promised the opposite.

            Accalia groaned before going to the controls. “Right. Let’s go somewhere where you can’t start any feuds. Like a desert. Can’t piss anyone off if there’s no one there!”

            Mels stuck out her tongue in response, and dropped into the jump seat. “What’s your favorite place in the universe?” She asked curiously.

            Accalia paused as she considered the question. It was actually more difficult than she thought; she’d seen so many beautiful places, met so many wonderful cultures. There were a few that stuck out more than others, but her favorite?

            “…I went there when I first started traveling,” she said after a moment, the answer coming to her suddenly. It was so obvious that she wondered how she didn’t realize it sooner. “It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen, and it’s completely untouched. It’s almost as if time forgot the whole planet…” she trailed off, smiling slightly to herself. She turned to Mels after a moment. “Would you like to see it?”

            Mels nodded eagerly. She was always desperate to see new places.

            Accalia smiled, dancing about the console as she normally did, but her mind was years and years away.

            They landed, and Mels bounded out the door, Accalia close behind. “Welcome,” she said softly, “to Woman Wept.”

            They were both quiet as they looked around; Mels with wonder and Accalia with nostalgia. The planet was just as Accalia remembered it: frozen waves in varying shades of blue and green and black, the sky a deep lavender. A crescent moon that seemed far too close hung over the horizon. It was beautiful, and silent, and haunting.

            Mels moved farther out onto the ice, slipping a bit, but doing much better than Accalia had the first time she was here.

            The first time. Accalia sighed, and started walking. The first time had been with her first Doctor. He’d brought her here shortly after the fiasco with her father, as a sort of present. Accalia smiled slightly as she remembered her face when she’d seen the planet.

            They’d spent hours here, just exploring the waves and talking. She’d been looking at one of the waves when she’d caught the look on the Doctor’s face in his reflection in the ice. He’d been looking at her in open adoration, as if he couldn’t quite believe that she existed, that she was there in front of him. It was then that Rose, Accalia, had realized that the Doctor was as in love with her as she’d been with him.

            Accalia shivered in the nonexistent wind. So much had changed since that day; _she’d_ changed so much since that day. But still, that memory, this planet…they were precious to her. And they always would be, no matter what changed.

            Eventually, Accalia called Mels to her, and they returned to the TARDIS, and went back to the stars.


	18. Chapter 17

            “Oh come on, Mels! The old west! Isn’t that exciting?” Accalia called behind her as she bounded through the desert towards what looked like a town.

            Mels came grumbling behind her. “I want to see planets, Cali! Not boring old Earth…” she complained, kicking a (clichéd) tumbleweed viciously.

            Accalia snorted. “Earth is anything but boring,” she countered. “Mercy…” she murmured as they finally drew close enough to the town to read the sign. The TARDIS had parked herself a bit further out in the desert, though Accalia had no clue why, but Mels had been complaining about it for a while.

            “Why’d they change the population number for one person?” Mels asked with a bitter sort of curiosity as she came up next to Accalia.

            “No idea! Let’s go find out, shall we?” She said cheerfully, crossing over the odd line of sticks and stones that marked the town’s borders, completely ignoring the keep out signs. Mels of course didn’t bother to mention them either; they’d both come to decide that “Keep out” was more of a suggestion than an actual command.

            The residents of Mercy watched Accalia and Mels silently, and it was sort of giving Accalia the creeps. Though, one small part of her brain felt excited because this felt like one of the western movies her mother used to watch.

            A street lamp sparked, and Accalia paused to look at it. She frowned, spinning slowly to take in the wires and what not that went from street lamp to street lamp, and house to house. “Well that’s interesting…” she murmured.

            “What?” Mels asked. Her bad mood seemed to be dissipating as the familiar feeling of an adventure came over her.

            “These street lamps, they run off electricity. They shouldn’t have these for another ten years, at least,” Accalia explained, glaring at the lamp for not being in its proper place in time. “Come on then!” She called, turning away from the light and walking towards what appeared to be a saloon.

            Right in theme with the old western movie that was the setting in Accalia’s head, the conversation and piano music stopped as she and Mels stepped inside. Accalia grinned and waved before walking over to the bar. “I’ll have a beer and she’ll have water,” Accalia said, gesturing to Mels who glared at her.

            “Excuse me, ma’am, but might I inquire who you is?” A tall dark skinned man asked, stepping closer.

            “Oh, yes, I’m Accalia and this is Mels. Hello!” Accalia said with a grin, waving again.

            “How’d you get here alive?” A young man called from the back of the room.

            “Er, we walked. Is that unusual?” Accalia asked, raising an eyebrow.

            “Is you aliens?” The same young man asked, ignoring the question.

            Accalia and Mels glanced at each other, having a silent conversation. Accalia shook her head slightly, and Mels grinned. “Yep!” Mels announced as Accalia let her head fall in her hand. Accalia turned to explain when the townspeople surged towards them, lifting them up onto their soldiers, and carrying them outside.

            “You couldn’t just say no, could you?!” Accalia shouted at Mels. “Oi! Don’t think I didn’t feel that, buddy. Angry mob is no excuse to cop a feel!” She shouted at the man below her, jerking her limbs in an attempt to free herself.

            They were thrown unceremoniously over the town line, somehow managing to land on their feet. Accalia glanced at Mels to make sure she was alright, and almost felt bad for the townspeople when she saw Mels preparing herself to tell off the whole lot of them.

            “He’s here, oh God, he’s coming,” the black man in the suit murmured, catching Accalia’s attention. She turned in the direction they were looking, and her eyes widened as she saw a man…thing…walking towards them, disappearing and then reappearing closer.

“What the…” Mels muttered, seeing the same thing.

“Preacher, say something,” the young man commanded the black man.

“Our father, who art in heaven,” the preacher started.

“Go, go, go!” Accalia said urgently, pushing Mels towards the line. The people all raised guns, pointing them at her and Mels.

“Thy kingdom come, thy will be done…”

Accalia looked back at the figure that was drawing closer every minute while Mels glared at the town.

A sudden gunshot got Accalia’s attention, causing her to flinch on instinct. A man with a rather impressive mustache was holding a gun in the air. “You two, back over the line, now,” he commanded, voice far more calm than Accalia would have expected. The man pulled back his coat to reveal a star marking him as the marshal. With a glance at the gun-bearing townspeople, Mels and Accalia quickly stepped over the line, turning back to look at the figure; it disappeared.

“And you thought this would be boring,” Accalia whispered to Mels, who elbowed her in the stomach.

“Isaac, they said they was aliens,” the young man from before protested. Accalia was beginning to very much dislike him. Apparently so was Mels, as she made a move towards him, causing Accalia to quickly grab her by the arm to restrain her.

“That any reason to hand them to their death?” Isaac asked. Accalia raised an eyebrow at his continued calm; it was rather impressive.

“Isaac, it could be after one of them,” the boy continued. Accalia considered just letting Mels hit him.

“You know they ain’t,” Isaac said simply, turning away.

“I say we stick with the man that _doesn’t_ want us dead,” Accalia muttered to Mels, who was still glaring at the boy who had wanted to throw them to their death.

“Fine. But if that idiot opens his mouth one more time…” Mels muttered to Accalia. They started walking after Isaac, who went into the Marshal’s office.

“What was all that, out there?” Accalia asked as they stepped inside.

“The Gunslinger. Showed up three weeks back,” Isaac explained, sounding tired. “We've been prisoners ever since. See that border line stretching round the town? Woke up one morning, there it was. Nothing gets past it, in or out. No supply wagons, no reinforcements. Pretty soon the whole town's going to starve to death.”

“What happens if someone crosses the line?” Accalia asked curiously.

Isaac picked a Stetson off his desk and tossed it to her. Accalia caught it, and raised an eyebrow as she saw the bullet hole in it. “A warning shot?” She asked, placing the hat on her head absent mindedly. Mels snickered.

Isaac nodded his agreement.

“So what’s he after, then?’ Mels asked, plopping down into another chair.

“All he’s said is he wants us to give him the alien doctor,” Isaac said, rubbing his face.

Accalia froze. No. Surely not…it had to be a coincidence, right? It must be. She knew her Doctor, if he were here, he would’ve made it known by now. Subtly was not his strong suit, not in any body. “So, let’s meet him, shall we? This alien doctor,” she clarified cheerfully when Isaac looked at her with confusion. “You told that idiot outside that you knew we weren’t the aliens that the Gunslinger wanted, so I assume you know which alien he was after. And since you seem pretty anti-death, I’d guess that this Doctor his hiding out in here, I certainly would,” she smiled at Isaac all the while, and he kept his face carefully blank.

Isaac was just about to deny everything she said, when movement from the cell in the corner caught her eye. A man with a strange marking around his left eye had thrown a blanket aside. “Isaac, I think the time for subterfuge has passed. Good afternoon. My name is Kahler-Jex. I'm the doctor,” Jex said, standing up and stepping out of the unlocked cell.

“Khaler…Khaler…Khaler…” Accalia muttered to herself, trying to figure out why the name sounded familiar. “Oh, right! You guys are one of the most intelligent races out there, always wanted to meet one of you!” She exclaimed excitedly, hurrying forward to shake a slightly surprised Jex’s hand.

Mels rolled her eyes. “Right. How’d you get here in the first place?” She demanded.

Jex proceeded to tell them how his ship had crashed and the people of Mercy had pulled him from the wreckage. He’d become the town surgeon, and had given them electric lights and heat as thanks. Isaac added in that Jex had saved the town from an outbreak of cholera a few years ago, and now they all wanted to throw him to the Gunslinger.

“Well, this is an easy fix, at least. I’ll just bring my ship over, we’ll load everyone up, and transport out!” Accalia shrugged when the explanation was over.

“That’s it? We never do anything that simply. Anything! There’s got to be at least one explosion,” Mels exclaimed.

“Hush you, we’ve got an easy way out, and we’re going to take it,” Accalia snapped back, winking at her while the others couldn’t see.

“Ma’am? You’ve still got to get past the Gunslinger. How do you plan to do that?” Isaac asked.

Accalia just grinned at him.

 

While Isaac was running all over the desert to distract the Gunslinger, and Mels was watching Jex, Accalia stole a horse and rode off towards the TARDIS. She was going to go through with the plan, she really was, but then she found a rather large cable, and, well. She was curious. She followed the cable to what looked like a large, white bean, and quickly proceeded to climb on it.

“Alright, Jex, what are you hiding?” She murmured, looking along the white surface for a keypad or something. Growling with annoyance when she found nothing, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the blue-tipped sonic screwdriver that had once belonged to John. Given the option, Accalia preferred to do things the manual way. The current situation didn’t allow for that however, so she cheated.

“C’mon, c’mon,” she muttered, fiddling with the settings until the ship opened up, an ear-splitting alarm going off as it opened. She slipped inside, covering her ears, and used the screwdriver to turn off the self-destruct sequence.

“Jeeze, Jex, what are you so protective of?” She muttered, and started searching through Jex’s files. Her eyes widened as she discovered the truth behind the Gunslinger. She threw herself back on the horse she’d stolen, and galloped back to Mercy. _‘Mels! God, Mels!’_

She jumped off her horse in front of the Marshal’s office, but the door was already open. She sagged with relief when she heard Mels yelling angrily inside.

“He pointed a gun at my head! _A gun!_ Now you let me go and let me show him just how much damage _I_ can do, _without a gun!_ ”

Accalia laughed for a moment in relief, then remembered everything she’d just seen. Anger filling every part of her being, she marched inside, going straight for Jex. “You’ve been lying to us,” she hissed, stalking closer and closer to a frightened Jex, who back up until he tripped into a chair. “I should just give you to the Gunslinger now!” She screamed at him, making his flinch.

“Now hold on, what are you talking about, Accalia?” Isaac asked, frowning with confusion.

Accalia whirled around to face him, making him flinch. Mels sighed, and pulled out of Isaac’s restraining grip (he still hadn’t let her go for fear she’d attack Jex), and moved to the side, out of the way.

“ _This_ ,” Accalia growled, gesturing behind her to Jex, “this… _monster_ created the Gunslinger. He’s a cyborg, half man, half machine. Jex here and his associates took in volunteers and _experimented_ ,” she spat out the word, “on them, and made them into killers!”

Isaac looked stunned, but remained calm. The calm that Accalia had so admired before only pissed her off now. “Alright. Why would you do that, Jex?” He asked, turning towards the doctor.

“War,” Jex muttered, looking up with a maniac gleam in his eye. “My people had been at war for nine years. We were told to find a way to end it, and _we did_. The cyborgs crushed our enemy inside a week, I saved countless lives!”

“At what cost?!” Accalia snapped, moving closer to him again. “How many patients died screaming on a table for you to win your war?”

“You cannot apply the rules of peace to war, to what I did. To what any of us did,” Jex growled right back.

Accalia turned away from him with a frustrated shout, tuning out Jex and Mels as they continued to discuss Jex and what he’d done. She took several deep breaths, trying to calm herself before she did something she regretted.

“You know, Accalia,” Jex called suddenly, pulling her from her reverie. “Looking at you is like looking in a mirror, almost. There’s guilt, like me. There’s rage, like me. Solitude. Everything but a reason for the destruction. How are you any better than me?” Jex smirked.

Accalia felt her face go blank for a moment. “I’m not,” she said simply, then ran at him, her face full of rage. “OUT OUT OUT!” She yelled at Jex, pulling him from his chair and all but throwing him out of the Marshal’s. She continued to chase and push him until she shoved him over the town line. She pulled her gun from her pocket, and switched the setting from stun to fatal, and pointed it between Jex’s eyes. She could see the Gunslinger appear in the distance.

“You wouldn’t” Jex pleaded.

“Wouldn’t I?” Accalia grinned ferally, the mad glint back in her eye after so long.

“Cali!” Mels yelled from behind her. Accalia ignored her, her gaze trained on Jex, watching the Gunslinger draw closer from behind him. “Cali!” Mels continued, louder. “Aunt Cali! ACCALIA!” She was screaming now.

Accalia blinked, and looked back at Mels, who looked like she was about to cry. Accalia blinked again, and looked at the gun in her hand. She dropped it, and backed away on shaky legs. “I…I…” she tried, but the words wouldn’t come. She looked back to Jex, and her eyes widened as she realized the Gunslinger was right behind him, gun-arm aimed at Jex’s head.

Jex turned slowly to face the Gunslinger.

“Make peace with your Gods,” The Gunslinger said in a gravelly voice.

“No!” A painfully familiar voice shouted, shoving Jex out of the way and taking the shot.

“NO!” Accalia screamed, diving down next to Mels’ twitching body. “No no no no no no…” she cried, pressing her hands to the bleeding wounds. “No, Mels, no, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please don’t…” she cried, trying to stop the bleeding.

“Quiet, Cali,” Mels said weakly, trying to laugh, “I’m focusing on a dress size.”

Golden light started shine under Mels’ skin, and Accalia scrambled out of the way while the townspeople watched in awe, fear, and confusion. Light exploded from Mels’ limbs, obscuring her from sight. When it finally died down, Accalia rushed to her side again.

“Never going to get used to this new teeth thing,” Mels said, sitting up and shaking out her large, curly blonde hair.

“River,” Accalia breathed, so quietly she almost couldn’t be heard, before throwing herself into River’s arms, crying.

“Hush, shh, now Auntie. I’m fine, see?” Mels said soothingly, stroking Accalia’s back.

“Anyone wanna tell me what the hell just happened?” Isaac asked, but was ignored.

“Enough of this. You have until noon tomorrow to give me him, or I kill everyone,” the Gunslinger growled, before turning to leave.

“Wait!” Jex called, stepping back over the line and towards the Gunslinger, who turned back to face the small, trembling man.

“Doc, no!” Isaac shouted.

“It’s okay, Isaac!” Jex called back, his voice shaking as the Gunslinger raised his gun towards Jex’s face. “Enough people have been killed in my war. It’s time to end it,” he closed his eyes. The Gunslinger fired, making everyone jump, and Jex fell over, dead.

“It’s over,” The Gunslinger said, his mechanical gravel-like voice quiet. He turned and walked back into the desert, disappearing. There was an explosion a few minutes later.

“You two should leave,” Isaac said quietly to Accalia and Mels, who were still hugging on the ground, Accalia crying.

Accalia looked up at him; his eyes were hard. “That’s not a suggestion: that’s a warning.” Isaac walked over to collect Jex’s body, and Mels hauled Accalia to her feet. “Let’s go, Cali,” she said quietly, pulling her out into the desert.

The two were quiet as they made their way back to the TARDIS, who hummed in welcome.

“Mels, I’m so sorry,” Accalia said after a few more minutes of silence, sounding close to tears again.

“It’s okay, Cali. It was my decision to save Jex,” Mels said with a sad smile. “But what happened back there? I’ve never seen you lose it quite like that…and what was Jex talking about?” She asked, frowning now, and moving closer to Accalia.

Accalia stepped back instinctually, and hugged herself. “It…he…” she sighed. “I never wanted to have to tell you this,” she whispered, looking into Mels’ now green eyes, and begging for understanding. She then proceeded to quietly tell Mels of her life in the other universe; how she’d killed innocent—and not so innocent—people because it was “necessary.” She didn’t leave anything out, and spoke with her eyes towards the ground. She finished by telling how she’d created a paradox that had destroyed the entire universe, somehow managing to escape to this one. “And that’s what Jex was talking about. The pain of it all…somehow he saw it all in me. He was right; there was no reason for the suffering I caused,” she said bitterly, wiping a stray tear from her face angrily.

Mels had been silent throughout this whole thing, and remained silent now. Accalia looked up at her, worried about her reaction. Mels was staring at Accalia, apparently considering her. “That was horrible,” she said bluntly, and Accalia flinched.

“Absolutely horrible. So many people…” she shook her head, then looked at Accalia again. “But I don’t think you’re that person any more. I don’t think you have been for a long, long time,” she said gently.

Accalia let out a cross between a laugh and a sob. “I’d like to hope not,” she said with a watery smile. Mels smiled more fully at her, and Accalia grabbed her in a hug again, wondering how she’d gotten lucky enough to get such a kind and understanding family.


	19. Chapter 18

            The Doctor was overjoyed at the chance to wear a Stetson again; even if Amy kept trying to steal it from him. He’d taken a quick break from cleaning up Rose’s enemies to take his Ponds on a quick trip. He hadn’t seen them in a while, and he missed them—not that he’d admit it, though.

            “Mercy!” The Doctor called, coming to a stop in front of a small town. The sign said the population was at one point eighty, then it had been changed to eighty-one, before being changed back to eighty. The Doctor frowned; that was odd. “Come along, Ponds!” He called back to his companions, ducking as Amy tried to snatch his hat.

            The town was empty, not a soul in sight. The Doctor frowned as they walked, taking in all of the abnormalities: there were electric street lamps, and it looked like a lot of the buildings had electric heat as well.

            “Doctor!” Amy called, and pointed to the edge of town, near a church.

            The Doctor turned to look, and found the entire population of the town. They were standing in a cemetery, apparently at a funeral. The Doctor, Amy, and Rory all crept closer to the ceremony to hear the last few words.

            “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” the preacher intoned, throwing a handful of dust into the open grave. They could hear the sound of it hitting the wood of the coffin.

            It finished quickly after that, and the men guided their sniffling wives away, everyone heading to the saloon. The Doctor and his companions got a few odd looks, but were mostly ignored, except by the Marshal who came over to greet them.

            “Who’re y’all?” He asked gruffly. Perhaps greet wasn’t the right word.

            “Right, I’m the Doctor, and this is Amy and Rory Pond,” The Doctor said, guesting to the couple behind him and ignoring Rory’s grumbled “Williams!” “Who was that you just buried?” The Doctor asked curiously. Amy elbowed him in the side. “So sorry for your loss,” he added, rubbing his side and glaring at Amy.

            The Marshal looked back at the grave, and the Doctor noticed a look of sadness cross his otherwise stern face. “His name was Jex. He was a friend of mine, a doctor, and great man. Brave, too,” the Marshal said quietly, before turning back to the Doctor. “He was killed yesterday.”

            “By who?” Rory asked.

            The Marshal glared. “Depends who you ask,” he growled. “We had an issue with a Gunslinger, a, a _cyborg_ ,” he seemed unsure with the foreign word, and the Doctor rose his eyebrows. “The Gunslinger was the one to shoot Jex, but a woman, an alien, she was the one what drove Jex to the Gunslinger in the first place,” he spat.

            “I have so many questions!” The Doctor said excitedly, earning himself a glare from both his companions and the Marshal. “First of all, how do you even know what a cyborg _is_ , that’s years and years ahead of you!”

            The Marshal narrowed his eyes. “You’re an alien too, ain’t you?”

            The Doctor ignored the question and kept going. “Second, how’d this alien woman drive Jex to the Gunslinger? Third, did the woman have a name?”

            The Marshal glared at the Doctor for a moment. “I’ll tell ya, but then you got to leave. We’ve had enough issues with aliens in this town without three more.”

            Amy and Rory went to protest being called aliens, but the Doctor raised a hand to silence them. “Deal.”

            The Marshal, Isaac, quickly told them how Jex had arrived in their town and saved them all from cholera, and how soon the Gunslinger showed up and held them hostage in the town. Then he told how two mysterious alien women showed up, with plans to save everyone from the Gunslinger. But one woman, Accalia, had stumbled across some information about Jex. He’d created the Gunslinger, and other cyborgs, in order to end a war. He’d killed many people in the process. Accalia had gotten angry, and Jex had made it worse by saying they were the same. Accalia had gone completely mad, and had chased Jex outside, and shoved him across the line. When the Gunslinger showed up to kill him, Accalia’s friend, Mels, had shoved him out of the way, taking the shot herself (Amy gasped here, and grabbed Rory’s arm). Mels had turned into another person, and Jex sacrificed himself to the Gunslinger, saying it was time for the war to end. The Gunslinger left, and killed himself, and the two women had left town.

            The Doctor opened his mouth to ask another question, but Isaac was already shaking his head. “I already answered your questions and then some. Time to uphold your end of the bargain and _git_.” With that, the Isaac walked towards the Saloon where the rest of the town had gone.

            The Doctor, Amy, and Rory left the town quietly, each absorbed in their own thoughts. “Well,” Amy said shakily, “I guess we know how Mels regenerated into River now…” she paused. “I’m _so_ going to give Cali a piece of my mind the next time I see her,” she growled.

            “Rose,” the Doctor muttered. He’d been trying to get his Ponds to call Rose by her proper name since he found out they knew her; they completely ignored him, and continued calling her whatever they pleased.

            “What I want to know is why Larentia got so mad she decided to give Jex over to the Gunslinger,” Rory murmured. Amy glared at him. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m mad that she got Mels hurt, but Mels is alright, we know that. And I know Larentia: she has a strict no killing policy,” Rory hastened to explain.

            “Rose,” the Doctor said again, a bit louder now. He thought he might know why Rose had delivered Jex to his creation; Jex had killed all those people, Rose would have wanted justice. That much made sense, but it still went against her nonviolent personality. The Doctor frowned; Jex must have said something to enrage her.

           

            Accalia, after some prodding and recounting the story of Amy’s prayer leaf, managed to convince Mels to start going by River Song. “I sound like a hippie!” She’d complain, but she eventually went with it, and Accalia had the sneaking suspicion that River liked the name more than she let on.

            They continued traveling, but Accalia was more careful than usual for the first few trips. She didn’t get involved in anything unless she absolutely had to, and was extremely over protective of River. Finally, River got fed up and told Accalia off.

            “I am a grown woman and I can take care of myself!” She snapped. “And just because you made one mistake and went completely batshit does not mean it’s going to happen again!”

            That, of course, led into a very long and very loud argument. The worst part was they decided to have this argument in 14th century France, and ended up being arrested and accused of witchcraft. They both apologized to each other after they broke out of prison, and Accalia made an effort to give River more freedom during their adventures. Eventually, she became as laid-back as she had been before.

            But as they traveled, Accalia began to notice a shift in River’s attitude. She still loved the adventure, sure, but she was becoming increasingly aggravated with the gaps in her education when it came to history and alien cultures. As Accalia watched, she realized sadly that her time traveling with River was coming to a close.

            Accalia began to plan, making arrangements while River slept or ate; she made phone calls and threats and bribes, and eventually everything was ready. Well, almost.

            “River, I need you to do something, and you can’t ask questions,” Accalia said one day, approaching River where she was reading in the library.

            River looked up curiously. “Alright, what is it, Cali?”

            Accalia smiled. “That’s a question,” she pointed out, setting a piece of paper and a pen in front of River. “Do you remember the High Galifreyan I taught you?” River nodded. “Good, I need you to write instructions down for me.”

            “Who are they going to?” River asked as she adjusted herself into a better position to write in.

            Accalia rolled her with exasperation. “You’re really not getting this whole ‘no questions’ thing, you know that?” She said sarcastically. River glared at her. “Fine, fine. It’s to…a friend. It’s to the woman who has to get you from Demons Run. We have to get the instructions to her in the past so she’ll save you in her future so our present stays the same,” Accalia paused. “Yeah, that’s right,” she muttered after making sure she got the correct tenses in the correct places.

            River rose an eyebrow. “Will she be alright?”

            Accalia was careful to not react to that question. She hated to lie to River, she really did, but it was for her own good. “Yes, she’ll be fine. She’ll have a couple of close calls, but fine,” she said, and was proud when her voice was believable. She was also worried; when had she become such a good liar?

            River nodded, and wrote down everything Accalia told her to. Accalia read it over when she was finished, and paused at the closing greeting. “Why the apology?” She asked curiously, keeping the nervousness she felt out of her voice.

            River shrugged. “This woman is risking her life for me…and you said she had, will have,” Rive made a face, “ _whatever_ , some close calls. I…I feel bad that someone would go through all that trouble to save me,” River sighed, and glanced aside.

            Accalia felt a rush of affection for the woman she considered a niece. “She’s happy to do it, I promise you that,” she said quietly, and smiled. She left the room, and sent the TARDIS to Cardiff, wrote her name on the front of the paper, and slipped the letter into a pizza box that was headed to Torchwood. She rolled her eyes at the lack of secrecy Jack’s branch of the organization had.

            Jack. He’d come to take Melody from her…how had he known to do that? It couldn’t have been her that told him to do it…he would have asked too many questions, and Jack always knew when she was lying…it must be River, then.

            Accalia nodded to herself, and set the TARDIS forward in time three weeks, before going to get River.

            “Right, so you need to fix his vortex manipulator, then tell him to take the baby to this orphanage,” she said, handing River a piece of paper. “And please, don’t tell him the baby is you. Oh! And if he comes on to you, _when_ he comes on to you,” she amended, shaking her head and smiling, “feel free to slap him. Off you go!” She said cheerfully, shooing River out the door.

            She fiddled with the TARDIS while she waited, wondering idly if she should get a new pair of thermal cufflinks before the ones she had blew out. After what seemed like an unreasonably long time, River came back, her hair mussed and a large grin on her face.

            Accalia groaned. “River, really?” She asked, making a mental note to kill Jack the next time she saw him.

            “What can I say, Auntie?  The man is good,” she grinned.

            Accalia shuddered, not wanting to think about the whole thing, and sent the TARDIS into the vortex. She fiddled with the controls for a moment, debating on whether or not she should tell River now, or later. She sighed. _‘Best to get it over with,’_ she thought to herself, turning to face River. “I didn’t tell you the whole truth,” she started, rubbing her forehead.

            “What do you mean?” River asked carefully.

            “The note you wrote will go to me. It will take me to Demons Run, and I’ll save you from Madame Kovarian. Then Jack will come and take you from me, and I will be captured,” Accalia said slowly, watching River.

            “But…but…you said…” River stuttered, staring at Accalia in horror.

            “I said she would be alright, that I would be alright. And I am, now. It took me a while, I’m not going to lie. I had a lot to recover from. But I wasn’t lying when I said that I was happy to do all of it for you,” Accalia said earnestly.

            “You shouldn’t have lied to me,” River said darkly, glaring at Accalia. She thought she could see a few tears gathering in the corners of River’s eyes. “You shouldn’t have risked your life to save mine; you shouldn’t have made me make you walk into a trap!” River yelled.

            “River, I—” Accalia started, but River wouldn’t hear it. She stormed out of the room, wiping her eyes. Accalia sighed. “Well that went well,” she muttered to herself.

            True to her word, or true to what her future self would say, River wouldn’t talk to Accalia for three days. It made Accalia sad, but also let her finish making her arrangements. Finally, River came quietly into the library where Accalia was reading. “Cali?” she asked quietly.

            Accalia looked up, and quickly set her book aside.

            “What happens to you when the Silence captures you?” River asked, coming further into the room.

            Accalia sighed. “Someday, I’ll tell you. Technically, I’ve already told you,” she said shaking her head. “Past me, future you,” she clarified at River’s bewildered look. “I was fresh from it, then, still hurting. But you and your parents,” Accalia smiled, shaking her head, “you helped me through it. Which reminds me,” she added suddenly, “after I’ve told you what happens to me, you need to tell me that you wrote the note sending me to Demons Run.”

            River started to protest and Accalia cut her off. “Hush. Now listen, all you have to do is tell me that I told you to write the note. Then I’ll know what I have to do, and everything will keep going. Promise me you’ll tell me, River,” she added sternly when River looked mutinous.

            There followed an intense glaring match that Accalia wasn’t sure she’d win. River broke down first. “I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you that you don’t have to do it, that there’s a choice, but I’ll tell you,” River muttered, her voice sad and angry.

            Accalia smiled. “Good. Now, then, we have some place to be!” She said cheerfully, leaping from her seat and dashing to the control room. River followed her, and couldn’t help a laugh.

            Accalia dashed about the controls, River helping her. Accalia grinned, trying to savor the moment. This would be the last time she would have River help her; she wanted to remember it.

            “Where are we?” River asked when they landed. Accalia just smiled, and nodded at the door. River hurried over, and pulled it open, freezing in place as she did so.

            Accalia came up next to her. “Welcome,” she said quietly, “to Luna University.”

            River slowly stepped outside, looking at the huge school, before turning to look at Accalia. “Why are we here?” River asked slowly.

            Accalia kept her eyes on the school. “I made some calls, and some threats,” she paused to grin at River, “kidding! Well, mostly. But you’re enrolled here, now. Can major in whatever you’d like, though I hear their archeology department is spectacular.”

            “Is this because of the fight? Or because I didn’t do what you told me to? Or, God, is it because I slept with Jack?” River demanded, sounding slightly hysterical.

            Accalia quickly hurried to her, putting her hands on River’s shoulders. “No, no! Hey, listen to me. It’s because I’ve seen the look on your face when I’ve had to explain some bit of culture or history: you love traveling and learning about all these places, but you hate not knowing something when we get there. And I’m happy to explain it to you, I am, always,” she added quickly, “but you and I both know you want more than that. So now you can get the education you’ve always wanted,” She smiled sadly at River.

            River glanced back at the school. “But I don’t want to stop traveling,” she whispered.

            Accalia grinned, and reached into a pocket that was as deep as the TARDIS. “I didn’t think you would. So I got you a present,” she said, handing a bright red box to River, complete with gold bow.

            River looked at her curiously, before opening the box, her eyes widening slightly. “A vortex manipulator?” She asked, lifting the bracelet-like device from the box carefully, as if afraid she would break it.

            “Yep!” Accalia said cheerfully, trying not to let on how lonely she was already. “That way you can travel to the places you learn about in between classes and study breaks,” she grinned, helping River to fasten the device around her wrist.

            “Cali, I—” River paused, looking at the school again with unmistakable longing in her eyes. She turned back to Accalia. “I can’t just leave you,” she said quietly.

            “Sure you can. I’ll be fine. Eight hundred years old, me. I can fend for myself pretty well,” Accalia said with a reassuring smile. “Now go, you need to sign up for classes yet.”

            River hesitated for a moment longer before hugging Accalia tightly. “Thank you, for this, for everything. Without you—” she shook her head against Accalia’s neck. “Thank you.”

            “Always,” Accalia said quietly, hugging her just as tightly.

            River pulled away, and waved sadly before walking up to the university, glancing back over her shoulder a few times. Accalia waved, and hurried into the TARDIS before she could change her mind and beg River to come back. She sniffled a few times, then forced a smile on to her face. “Alright Old Girl, what have you got for me this time?”


	20. Chapter 19

            It took Accalia more time than she’d like to admit to get used to traveling alone again. She’d be stuck in some mad situation on some distant planet, and turn to make some sarcastic quip, only to remember she was alone. She became a bit more reckless than usual to cope, which more than once resulted in her death. Eventually, after receiving a stern talking to (humming at?) from the TARDIS, Accalia managed to reacquaint herself to the rules and mannerisms one must follow when traveling and saving the universe alone.

            But she was lonely, even if she didn’t want to admit it. She coped with this by alternating between visiting Jack and Amy and Rory. Upon visiting the Ponds the first time after leaving River, Accalia was rather surprised to discover that they knew of the events at Mercy, and weren’t very pleased. Rory mostly just glared at her, while Amy chewed her out for getting her daughter semi-killed. It took them a moment to realize River wasn’t actually there, at which point Accalia told them she’d left River at university. Then it had been all smiles and thank yous for getting their daughter a higher education. It was a strange and emotional day over all.

            Visiting Jack ended with Accalia doing the telling off for reasons also involving River.

            “Jack, you’ve got sex hair, am I interrupting something?” Accalia asked wryly as a disheveled Jack stepped into his living room (Accalia had taken to parking the TARDIS in Jack’s flat rather than in Torchwood).

            Jack grinned lazily. “Nope, she just left,” he said cheerily, going to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee.

            Accalia raised an eyebrow. “What, did she climb out the window? Unless I’m mistaken, you only just finished, and I didn’t see anybody come out this way.”

            Jack shook his head. “She’s got a vortex manipulator,” he said easily.

            Accalia’s eyes narrowed. “Blonde, curly haired, has a habit of calling everyone ‘sweetie?’” Accalia asked innocently, still glaring at Jack’s back.

            “Yeah, actually, you know he—” Jack ducked as Accalia’s shoe flew into the space his head had recently occupied.

            “You’re _shagging_ with my _niece! Again!_ ” Accalia shouted. She continued to yell and throw things at Jack, who kept ducking and trying to explain, but Accalia wasn’t having any of it.

            Finally, when she’d reached the end of her rant, she huffed. “She sure as hell better not be a one night stand, or a booty call,” she grumbled.

            Jack sighed, sensing the worst was over. “She’s not actually, we’ve, uh, been seeing each other for a few weeks,” he said warily, ready to duck should Accalia find another projectile.

            Accalia stared at him for a moment before dropping her head into her hands with a groan. “The one time one-night-stand-Jack goes domestic, and it’s with my niece!” She muttered, and Jack wasn’t sure if he should laugh, or express his indignation at her nick-name for him.

            Instead he started questioning her on exactly when she’d acquired a niece, which in turn led to a long explanation about Mels and River and the Ponds.

            Jack stared at her in horror. “I held her. When she was a baby. I held her. And now I’m _sleeping with her_. I feel like a pedophile. Am I a pedophile?” He asked frantically.

            Accalia laughed for a good long while at that one. She left a little while later, after a long discussion about the pros and cons of time travel; followed by an equally long discussion about the number of places she knew where she could hide a body.

            Accalia was still lonely on her travels, though. Jack couldn’t come with her because of Torchwood, and Amy and Rory wouldn’t come because they’d been tasked by the Doctor with watching some little black boxes. She thought about taking on a companion—she’d met several fantastic people—but something about it just didn’t feel right, so she continued to travel alone.

            It was strange, she thought, that she’d come to rely so much on having a companion with her during her travels; for centuries, she’d traveled alone, and she’d been fine. _‘Well, not fine,’_ she amended.

            She was drifting in space, sitting in the open door of the TARDIS, her leg dangling out the door as she stared out at the stars, thinking. She remembered the time from before, when she went by the Warden. She’d traveled alone then, sure, but she was running then; more so than she was now. Then she only slept when she was too physically tired to move anymore. Then the TARDIS would lock her inside just to force her to rest. Looking back, Accalia realized just how far she’d come since then, and she smiled.

            But with the realization that she’d begun healing without even noticing brought the thoughts of why she’d needed to heal in the first place. She reached into her shirt, and pulled out a long, thin chain, John’s wedding ring dangling from it. She’d started wearing it at some point during her travels with River. Thinking of John still hurt, as it always would, but Accalia was able to think of her good memories with him now, and smile at them. When it came to John, Accalia was pretty sure was as healed as she ever would be.

            Shooting the Doctor was also something she’d come to terms with. It was still a moment she didn’t like to think about, but the Doctor was alive, and so it wasn’t so bad. Added to that was the knowledge that she had saved River from that fate; that was perhaps the easiest part of the memory to deal with. Saving River would always be with it.

            Other memories weren’t as easily dealt with.

            Destroying the universe that had been her home for so many years…that was something she still couldn’t quite deal with. Along with all of the other people she’d killed, Accalia had realized that with that universe, her only chance of seeing her mother, or Tony, or Pete, ever again, had died. That was hard blow, and she often tried not to think about it.

            Seeing River—as Mels—get shot because of Accalia’s actions was a memory she kept firmly behind walls; she wasn’t anywhere near ready to deal with that.

            Accalia flinched away from her own memories, and moved away from the door of the TARDIS, closing it behind her. “Who’s someone I haven’t seen in a long time, hmm?” She asked aloud, trying to block out her own thoughts. She grinned with sudden inspiration, and set the coordinates.

            Minutes later, she stepped out of the TARDIS into a very familiar hospital. She ignored the Catkind, and made her way to the back of the ward, the age old advice of ‘Walk like you own the place’ in mind.

            “Hello, Face of Bo!” She said cheerfully, sitting down cross-legged in front of the large tank that held the large face. She’d never been _friends_ , exactly, with the Face of Bo, but she had liked him well enough when she’d met him.

            _‘Hello, Rose,’_ Bo said, sounding surprised, but pleased in her thoughts.

            Accalia smiled. “I haven’t actually gone by ‘Rose’ in a few years. It’s Accalia, now. But I’m actually kind of surprised you remember me.” She smiled curiously, asking without asking.

            _‘I very rarely forget a face,’_ Bo said, not addressing her change of name at all.

            “Oh,” Accalia said lamely, picking at a loose thread in her jeans. She was wondering now if it had been a good idea to come here; she felt strange talking out loud to a technically silent being. “So,” she said slightly awkwardly, “how’ve you been?”

            _‘Bored, for the most part. Being the equivalent of a large fish in a tank is surprisingly unentertaining,’_ Bo said with sarcastic humor.

            Accalia giggled, surprised. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Never thought of it that way. How do you stay sane?” She asked curiously. She knew if she were forced to stay stationary for as long as Bo had, she’d have lost it long ago.

            _‘Who says I’m sane?’_ Accalia _felt_ him chuckle in her head. It was the oddest sensation. _‘And what of you, Rose? How have you been faring?’_

            Accalia frowned at the continued use of her first name. “Accalia, if you don’t mind. And I’m alright, I s’pose,” she shrugged.

            _‘You are lonely,’_ Bo stated solemnly.

            Accalia frowned. “No I’m not!” She wondered why she was denying it when she’d been pondering it—or trying not to—only a few minutes ago. “Well, maybe a little,” she admitted.

            _‘Have you not forgiven the Doctor yet?’_

            Accalia stiffened. “When did my life become intergalactic gossip?” She snapped, then winced. “I’m sorry that was rude,” she sighed, rubbing her head.

            _‘It is fine,’_ Bo dismissed.

            Accalia smiled. “I forgave him a while ago, I s’pose,” she admitted.

            _‘Then why not go to him? He would gladly keep you company,’_ Bo suggested as if this where the simplest thing in the world.

            Accalia was shaking her head before Bo’s voice left her mind. “I may have forgiven him, but I doubt he’s forgiven me. I’ve done…some terrible things, become something he can’t stand. It’s better if we just stay on separate ends of the universe.”

            _‘You do not give him enough credit, Rose,’_ Bo said gently.

            She frowned, bordering on a glare now. “Not Rose,” she said firmly. “Not anymore,” she added quietly.

            _‘You do not give yourself enough credit either,_ Rose _,’_ he said, putting firm emphasis on the name.

            Accalia stared at him. “Why do you insist upon that name?” She asked slowly. She was getting the feeling that she was missing something.

            _‘I have always called you Rose, and I will always call you Rose. It is who you are, even if you lose sight of it.’_

            Accalia frowned, considering the large reddish head before her. He said he always called her Rose, but she’d only met him twice before, and she hadn’t even been in control of her body the second time around. She was pretty positive she hadn’t spoken to him either time, anyway. So what did he mean he always called her Rose?

            A thought niggled at her mind, wanting to come to the surface, but not quite able to reach it. What was it? It was the thought, the idea, that would let her know what was happening here.

            And then she got it. “No,” she muttered, brow furrowing. The only other person who insisted on calling her Rose. “You’re not…Jack, are you?” She asked, feeling silly. Of course he wasn’t. He was the Face of Bo. He was a very large psychic head. There was no way he was…

            The Face of Bo smiled.

            Accalia stared at him, wide eyed. “Oh god. Oh god!” She muttered. She let out a startled laugh. “You’re Jack. You’re a great big head, and you’re Jack!”

            _‘Nice to see you, too,’_ Bo-Jack said, and Accalia could hear the displeasure at being referred to as a “great big head,” which only made her laugh harder.

            She had a sudden sober thought that made the laughter die in her throat. “Oh god,” she muttered staring at him in horror. “Am I going to turn into a giant head, too?”

            She was pretty sure an actual, physical laugh escaped his lips at that one, before continuing in her mind. _‘Not as funny now, is it?’_ he teased.

            Accalia just stared at him, still worried, but shoved the thought away to smile at him again. “Why didn’t you tell me? Us?” She asked.

            _‘The time was not yet right for you to know. The first time we met when I was in this form, you and the Doctor had yet to meet me. The second, the Doctor still found me repulsive for my inability to die, and therefore would not want to know that this me was that me,’_ Jack explained.

            Accalia frowned when Jack mentioned the Doctor thought he was repulsive. She added that to her mental list of reasons to avoid the Doctor.

            Jack seemed to notice, and added _‘He has since gotten over the prejudice. We are friends once more.’_

            Accalia smiled. “Alright. I had better get going. It was good to see you again, Bo, Jack.” She shook her head. “That’s going to take some getting used to. I’ll come and visit more, I promise,” she said, standing up.

            _‘I look forward to it. Goodbye, Rose.’_

            Accalia waved, and returned to the TARDIS.

 

            Years and miles away, the Doctor stands alone in Central Park, a ripped page clutched in his hand.


	21. Chapter 20

            Accalia was frantic as she piloted the TARDIS through the vortex. There was a yellowed letter practically crushed in her palm, and though it made driving difficult, she refused to let it go. “No. No. No,” she kept muttering over and over, refusing to believe the words on the letter in her hand.

            The TARDIS landed a bit more roughly than usual, and Accalia threw herself out the door, staring at the empty house in front of her. She pounded on the doors, calling to someone who wasn’t there. She eventually picked the lock, and slipped inside. Someone had already begun the process of boxing everything up; somehow, that made everything all the more real to Accalia.

            “Oh, Rory…” she whispered, dropping to her knees in the half-empty living room.

            _“I can’t believe I kept forgetting about this!” Jack called to her from another room._

_Accalia had stopped in to visit, and Jack had leapt up mid conversation, muttering about some letter he’d been meaning to give her. “I thought of it after you left last time, when you mentioned the Ponds. I knew the name sounded familiar, I just couldn’t quite place it,” Jack continued from the other room. Accalia could hear the sound of rustling, and the occasional clunk as something was tossed aside. “Ah hah!” came his tell of triumph._

_He walked back into the sitting room, and handed her an old, yellowed letter. “I spent about a century wandering around without anything to do. One day I run into this old guy, and he recognized my vortex manipulator. You should have seen my face! He shouldn’t have known about that technology, not in that era. Hell, shouldn’t even know about it in this era!” Jack chuckled. “Anyway, he asked if I knew you. Had to go through a couple of names before I knew he was talking about you, actually. Anyway, he made me promise to give this to you.”_

_Accalia opened it curiously. Who would have been trying to get her a letter so long ago?_

My Dear Fortuna,

            So many years since I last saw you, and I finally find the chance to say my last goodbyes. Amy and I are happy and safe, I want you to know that first and foremost. We’ve made a life here, together, the kind of life we never could have had with the Doctor jumping in and out of our lives. I’m still a nurse; Amy’s a writer. We’re happy.

            Right, by this point you’re probably wondering what on Earth I’m talking about. We were on a trip with the Doctor, our last trip, when we ran afoul of a large group of Weeping Angels. I won’t bore you with the details, but suffice to say Amy and I didn’t make it out. And that’s okay; we have each other.

            Don’t come back to see me. The Doctor can’t even approach New York anymore without causing a paradox; we fear it’s the same for you. I’m nearing the end of my life now, I can feel it. And that’s okay, it was a good life. I hope you will miss me, but not too much. I have missed you.

            Live well; there is darkness in you, darkness from a past you never fully explained, but there is light and love as well. Sometimes you forget it. Be safe; I know you cannot die, but that doesn’t mean you should hold onto each injury, or search out dangerous situations. Remember to love; there are so many of us that love you and would see you do well. Remember us, and love us in return. And please look after River—we have not been able to see her, either, and someone needs to make sure she stays out of trouble.

            All my love, and Amy’s too,

            Your Centurion.

            _“I…I have to go…” Accalia had whispered, then run to the TARDIS, leaving behind a confused and worried Jack._

            From there, she had come straight here, hoping against hope that Rory was wrong, or still here, or _something_. Even if it had been some sort of cruel joke, she would have forgiven him, them.

            But he was gone. He and Amy both; they were gone. Gone. _Gone!_

            Accalia choked back a sob, and ran back to the TARDIS. There was still a chance. They might be on the TARDIS, with the Doctor. _There was always a chance!_

            “C’mon girl, find your sister. Can you sense her?” She pounded on the keys of the TARDIS harder than necessary, but the TARDIS didn’t object; she could feel the hurt and pain in her Wolf’s mind.

            “Damn!” Accalia shouted, stalking away from the screen when the TARDIS was unable to locate the Doctor’s. “Okay, okay…” she muttered, pacing. There had to be a way. There had to be some way. Martha’s phone! She’d seen it in the console back when they had defeated the Daleks before all of this even began. Would he still have it? Would he answer it? Accalia decided that wouldn’t matter, so long as he had it: she could trace the signal through the void.

            She tore down the halls of the TADIS, trying to remember where she’d thrown her old cell phone. She was pretty sure she’d thrown it at some point in her initial tantrum upon returning to the TARDIS the first time after John’s death.

            She muttered to herself angrily as she threw things around, searching desperately for the old phone. She yelled in triumph when she found it, then yelled in rage when she realized the screen was cracked, and it wouldn’t turn on. _‘But that might be the battery…’_ she thought, refusing to give up hope.

            She didn’t have the faintest idea where the power cord was, so she opened the back of the phone as she ran to the small room that doubled as both her work shop and a junk room. She had random odds and ends in here, some human, some alien. After some searching, and a lot of cursing, she found a power cube from Shethoria that should be strong enough to charge the phone, but not so strong it would fry the circuits.

            “C’mon you piece of shit!” She all but shrieked at the phone as it slowly powered on, letting out a far too cheerful jingle as it brought up the main screen. Her joy that phone still worked despite the damages was cut short by her need to get to the Doctor’s TARDIS, now.

            She ran back to the console, sending a mental thank you to the TARDIS for rearranging herself so that the two rooms were closer together than they had been before. She wired the phone to the console, setting it up to trace the signal, then pulled up Martha’s number.

            “Here goes,” she muttered, taking a deep breath before hitting the call button. There were a few moments of silence when Accalia didn’t dare to even breathe, but soon the ringing that indicated the call was going through started, and she let out a whoop of triumph. She started flying the TARDIS at a speed that was nowhere near safe, following the signal until the scanners picked up the Doctor’s TARDIS.

            The shields were up, so she couldn’t just materialize in side, which made Accalia growl in annoyance. She got as close to the Doctor’s TARDIS as she could, then threw open the door to her own.

            “Doctor!” She yelled angrily, desperately.

            When he didn’t respond, she ran back inside for a moment, before returning with a wrench. She threw it, satisfied when it made a loud “clunk!” before falling away.

            The door opened a moment later, and the Doctor’s bewildered face appeared.

            “Wha—”

            “Lower your shields!” Accalia yelled at him, before shutting the door and running to the console. She tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for the Doctor to lower his shields. When they did, she immediately dematerialized, then rematerialized in the Doctor’s TARDIS.

            “Where are they?” She yelled, running out of her red door into the Doctor’s familiar TARDIS. She ignored the melancholy hum of the TARDIS’ welcome, and stared at the Doctor’s face. His eyes were red, and blood shot, as if he’d been crying.

            “Rose, I—” the Doctor started; she could hear the heartbreak in his voice, and couldn’t bear to let him finish.

            “Don’t you dare tell me they’re gone!” She screamed at him, tears falling down her own face now. “They’re not gone. They’re not!”

            “Rose, I’m so sorry. But they are,” the Doctor said softly, stepping towards her.

            “No, no, no!” She yelled, stepping back and sliding down the wall to sit on the ground.

            The Doctor came to crouch in front of her, and she glared at him weakly. “You should have saved them. Why didn’t you save them?” She asked, her voice quieter now.

            The Doctor flinched as if she’d struck him. “I tried. You have to believe me, I tried,” he begged.

            Accalia shook her head, and let it lean back against the wall, her eyes closed. They sat in silence for a long time.

            “Rose, I did try to save them, I promise you. I did everything I could…” the Doctor whispered brokenly.

            Accalia kept her eyes shut. “I know. God, I know you loved them more than anything,” the Doctor muttered something unintelligible, and Accalia ignored him, “and I know you would have done everything you could, I just…” she trailed off, a few tears leaking out from her closed eyes.

            “Wish they were here,” the Doctor finished with a sigh.

            Accalia nodded, and finally opened her eyes. “Does River know?”

            The Doctor nodded, his eyes guarded. “She was there, she knows. But Rose, about River—”

            “Accalia. My name is Accalia,” she interrupted. It was less because she cared, and more because she thought she heard more bad news in his voice. She couldn’t take more bad news.

            The Doctor saw through her anyway. “River took a manuscript to Amy to help guide her through. And then River left to guide a small private group through a library,” the Doctor paused, and Accalia thought she saw his hearts break a little more. “She dies there, Rose. River dies in that library.”

            “No,” Accalia said, shaking her head violently. “No. No. You’re lying. No.”

            “Rose—” The Doctor started, grabbing her knee.

            “NO!” She screamed, jerking away from his touch and covering her ears like a small child. “River is _not_ dead. Rory told me to _protect_ her, she is _not_ dead!”

            The Doctor flinched, but moved towards her. Accalia tried to scoot away, but the Doctor caught her in a hug, trying to restrain her more than anything. Accalia screamed and tried to fight her way out of his arms, but the Doctor endured her abuse and just held her. Eventually, Accalia gave up, and just cried in his arms, mourning the family she’d only just found.


	22. Chapter 21

            Rose woke slowly, unwilling to return to the world of the living. She opened her eyes, and blinked, slowly taking in her room. The pink walls looked down on her, clothing thrown here and there. Kick-knacks from various alien planets sat on available space. She smiled to herself as she wondered what adventures she’d go on with the Doctor today.

            And then reality came crashing down, and she remembered that she was not Rose, this was not her room, and she didn’t travel with the Doctor anymore. She jumped out of the bed as if electrocuted, and glanced around the room again, rubbing her shoulders. Why had he kept it?

            She left the room, pulling the door firmly shut behind her, then rubbed her swollen eyes. The events of yesterday returned to her full stength, and she forcefully shoved them into the far corner of her mind, lest she have another breakdown in the hall.

            The hall. Accalia looked around, guessing at her location and the time. The lights were low, so that should mean the Doctor was asleep, as well. Good. She could leave without any messy goodbyes or explanations. As for her location…well, she’d always been pretty good at finding her way around.

            She walked quietly down the halls, her footsteps making next to no noise. She found the control room quicker than she expected, and hurried over to her TARDIS…or at least, where her TARDIS should have been.

            “Leaving without saying goodbye?” The lights came up, and Accalia whirled around to see the Doctor sitting in the jump seat, watching her with sad eyes.

            “Where’s my TARDIS?” Accalia asked, not making eye contact. He had to know this was for the best. This was what they both wanted.

            “I asked the TARDIS to hide her for a bit. Wanted the chance to properly talk to you. You forget I know you too well, Rose,” the Doctor explained with a small smile, rising from the seat and walking to her.

            “You knew Rose, you don’t know me. I told you before,” she held back a wince at the memories of that specific _before_ , “Rose is dead. She has been for seven hundred and seventy years.”

            The Doctor shook his head. “Now, I don’t believe that. I believe that you’ve been Rose this whole time, you just don’t want to admit it.” He paused, considering her. “You’re scared. Scared of what you’ve done, who you think you’ve become. You’re afraid that your idea of who ‘Rose’ was, _is_ , won’t fit with all that.” He smiled, taking a step closer and gripping her shoulders, making intense eye contact. “You’re wrong.”

            Accalia threw his hands off her shoulders, quickly putting distance between them. That damnable man and his bloody _hope_. “I know you want her to still be here, Doctor, but you need to accept that she’s gone, that she’s not coming back,” Accalia said firmly, glaring now.

            “Prove it,” the Doctor said bluntly, circling her now. “Tell me what makes Accalia, Larentia, Bad Wolf, _whomever_ , different from Rose.”

            Accalia glared at his ever moving figure. She felt like she was being lured into a trap; a gazelle being circled by a hungry lion. But she was _not_ that weak little girl anymore. He wanted proof? She’d give him proof.

            “First came the Widow,” she started, eyes ahead and voice filled with anger. “She moved the quickest of them all. Stayed in the shadows, did what needed to be done, and left. Didn’t speak to anyone unless she could help it. Took lives when it was necessary,” she made eye contact with the Doctor as he circled in front of her, and broke it as he continued walking, moving out of her line of sight. “She never looked back.”

            “Next came the Warden. Angry, but the best actress. Never stayed for long after she did what needed to be done. Reckless, a show off. Spoke to people, but didn’t make connections. Killed at first only when necessary, but later on, for expediency. No remorse.

“Then came Larentia. Sad, angry, quiet. Stayed in the shadows, saved people because she had a debt to repay, a crime to repent for. Wouldn’t kill. Spoke to a few people, had two friends, but was still mostly closed off.”

            Accalia’s voice had slipped from angry into emotionless at some point during this speech explaining her many personalities. She was blocking images, memories that came with the names.

            “Bad Wolf. Reckless. Furious. Vindictive. Homicidal. Insane. She would have destroyed the whole universe.

            “Accalia,” her voice quieted a bit. The Doctor had stopped circling her at some point, and was now standing behind her, staring at her with ancient, sad eyes that bore the wait of everything he’d seen, everything he’d done.

            “Scared. Lonely. In desperate want of a family. Protective. Prone to bouts of rage and insanity.”

            “And Rose?” The Doctor asked quietly, still behind her.

            Accalia’s expression hardened, and the anger returned to her voice. “Weak, timid, unintelligent, naïve, overly-trusting, foolish. A dreamer,” she growled harshly.

            The Doctor moved in front of her again, and grabbed her shoulders once more, holding on even as she tried to shrug them off. “Wrong. Rose is loving, and patient. Kind and helpful. Self-sacrificing and brave. Clever and intuitive. Rose is a thousand million things, and not a single one of them is negative.”

            Accalia scoffed and looked away, still trying to break the physical contact with the Doctor.

            “No, you listen to me, I’m not done!” He growled, anger entering his voice for the first time. He softened. “The you you described as Larentia watched over Rory as he protected his wife for two thousand years. She helped save his child, at her own expense. She traveled the universe and saved people and planets alike. She is kind, and brave, and loyal, and patient, and self-sacrificing,” he gave her a little shake as if to drive his point home. She refused to make eye contact.

            “The you you described as Bad Wolf wanted only revenge on those who had hurt the ones she loved. _The ones she loved_. That is love, no matter the mistakes she made.” Accalia was staring intently at the floor now, her hair shifting over her shoulders to hide her face.

            “And the you you described as Accalia. She saved people and planets. She watched over Amy and Rory’s daughter as she grew up, and showed her the stars. She got River into college, helped her find her passion, even though it meant giving up her only companion and condemning herself to loneliness once more. She mourned the loss of her family. She is loving, and kind, and brave, and loyal, and selfless, and patient.”

            The Doctor released one of Accalia’s shoulders and used his free hand to tilt her head up so they could see each other once more. Accalia had silent tears streaming down her face; her eyes held brokenness. “You have always been Rose. Everything you did, everyone you thought you were, you have been Rose. You have been the loving woman who saved an old man from himself years ago. You are the woman I fell in love with, and the woman I should never have let go,” his voice was soft by the end, a sad smile crossing his features.

He leaned in and kissed her on the forehead, which seemed to draw Accalia back to herself. She jumped away, surprising the Doctor so that his grip on her was lost. “I know you want me to be those things. _I_ want me to be those things. But I’m not, I can’t. I just…I just can’t…” she buried her face in her hands, trying to pull herself back together. His words shouldn’t be able to affect her like this; his stupid, hopeful, beautiful words. She knew the truth. She knew the truth that he could not, would not see.

She heard him take a step towards her, and she took another one back in response, raising her head. “I’ve killed people, Doctor. I killed people in cold blood because they were in my way. I killed them because it was easier, faster, than trying to talk them out of the way. I killed them because it was too hard to see the good in anybody anymore, in myself anymore.” She was shaking her head now, continuing to back away from him until her back hit a wall. “I took one life to save another and destroyed an entire universe,” she whispered, all her pain from over the years pouring into her voice now. “I am a monster. I have been a monster for a very long time. I will always _be_ a monster, and you, no matter your hopes and dreams, cannot fix me.”

“You think I haven’t done the same?” The Doctor whispered, maintaining the distance now, hoping not to scare her off. “I fought a war, I’ve killed people. I left a man on a space ship I knew was about to blow up just because he threatened one of my friends. True, I never blew up a universe, but that’s because I have built in senses that tell me when something is going to cause a paradox. You were flying blind, Rose. Your intentions were good, even if the manner in which you tried to accomplish that goal was flawed. You couldn’t have seen that coming.” He paused, watching her for a moment. She was back to not making eye contact. “Me, I knowingly, willingly, blew up my planet and all of my people. I put it all in a time lock so that nothing could be changed, no one could be saved. If you’re looking for a monster, he’s right here.”

Accalia kept her eyes down, fighting the urge to comfort the Doctor, assure him he had no choice. Even now, after all these years, old habits die hard.

His proclamation of her innocence in regards to the death of the universe had been the words she’d been subconsciously hoping to hear for centuries. They instilled a sense of peace in her that she still did not think she deserved. She was at war with her own emotions, which was a bit distracting, since she needed her mind to figure out a way off of the Doctor’s TARDIS.

The Doctor was watching her closely; he could see the conflicting emotions in her eyes, and her need for escape by the way the brown orbs darted around the room. Part of him, a very large, very loud part, wanted to keep her on the TARDIS until she accepted his words as truth. The rest of him, the part that held most of his common sense, knew that she would not be healed in one day, and she would not be pleased with him if he forced her to stay in his company on his TARDIS.

Fortunately, he was very clever, and found a way to compromise. He mentally asked the TARDIS to move Accalia’s TARDIS somewhere nearby. He also asked the TARDIS to learn what Accalia’s TARDIS felt like, how to sense it, so that she would be able to find her sister ship anywhere in the universe. He was letting her leave, but he sure as hell wasn’t letting her go.

He took another moment to drink in the sight of Accalia, his Rose. Holding her in his arms last night, even as she shook and cried with grief, and been the silver lining of the very dark cloud that was his life at the moment. He’d held her long after she’d cried herself to sleep, and had sat next to her for several hours after he’d laid her in her bed. It was creepy and wrong, and he acknowledged that; but to be offered the chance to simply drink in Rose’s presence…well, it had been an opportunity he wasn’t about to give up.

And now she was going to leave him again. _‘But this time, you’ll be able to find her,’_ he reminded himself before he could change his mind about letting her leave. He wasn’t going to be a jailer.

“Your TARDIS is down that hall,” he said quietly, motioning to the left.

Accalia’s eyes darted to his face, surprised for a moment, then she nodded, and quickly walked over to the hall he’d indicated. The Doctor did not move as she hurried past him, instead keeping his eyes trained on the spot where her feet had been.

Accalia paused at the doorway that led out into the hall. “I’m…I’m sorry. About Amy and Rory. You lost them, too. And I’m so, so sorry for that.” She paused. “Don’t travel alone. It’s not good for you.”

The Doctor jumped at the words that mirrored the ones in Amy’s last letter, then nodded stiffly, still not turning to look at her. He didn’t trust himself not to chase after her. _‘Time. Give her time,’_ he reminded himself.

Accalia nodded to herself, then hurried down the hall. The Doctor felt her presence fade a moment later, and sighed. He walked slowly to the TARDIS console, and started pushing buttons. A slow smile appeared on his face as the screen showed him Rose’s coordinates. “Time.”


	23. Chapter 22

            The first time the Doctor showed up, Accalia thought it was a coincidence. The universe was big place, but given how much the two of them moved around, it was bound to happen eventually. Luckily, on that particular occasion, Accalia saw the Doctor first, and managed to avoid him. It was about a month after she’d left his TARDIS, and she didn’t want to hear any more of his hopeful words concerning her identity.

            The second time the Doctor showed up, Accalia got suspicious.

She was in the rafters of an old church on Mazyion 12, loosening the bolts and wires holding up a very large, very ornate chandelier. There was going to be a wedding the next day, and, if everything went according to plan, this chandelier would fall just as the bride moved to walk into the room.

It was an arranged marriage, and neither of the participants was overly excited about the prospect of spending the rest of their lives with the other. Accalia felt for them, and agreed to help. Luckily, the people of this planet were extremely superstitious. A falling chandelier just as the bride entered the room, and BAM! Wedding off!

She just had to attach a remote activated bomb (very tiny explosion…hopefully) to the spot where that bolt used to be, and…

“Whatcha doin?” The Doctor’s face suddenly dropped down in front of hers.

Accalia let out a small scream before her instincts kicked in, and she slammed her head forward into the Doctor’s. She was up and on her feet, balancing on the thin beam, crouched in a fighting position before she realized what was happening.

The Doctor meanwhile, was trying to regain his balance and clutch his aching head at the same time. He’d been standing behind Accalia, and had leaned over her to put his head in her vision. The collision of her head into his had almost sent him arse over elbows, crashing to the floor below.

“Right, never sneak up on you, noted,” he muttered, once he was sure that, One, he wasn’t going to fall; and B, or Two, he didn’t have a concussion.

Accalia gaped at him, relaxing out of her offensive stance. “What are you doing here?” She hissed, looking below them to make sure there was no one around to overhear them.

The Doctor clasped his hands at about chest level, twisting them a bit. Accalia’s eyes narrowed as she took in the motion. The Doctor had a tell in every incarnation. “Ah, you know, just in the neighborhood, thought I’d pop in and say hello. Hello!” He added, grinning and waving.

Accalia raised an eyebrow. “I’m in the rafters of an old church. You knew I’d be up here?” She asked, disbelief saturating her voice.

“Yes, well,” the Doctor was twisting his hands again, “I may have asked around a bit. And once I got close enough…”

“You could sense me,” she muttered, rubbing her head. She looked up, and narrowed her eyes at him. “How’d you know to ask around for me?” She asked suspiciously.

“Oh, um, well, I do that everywhere. Now.” He seemed embarrassed now, and it was the first statement Accalia actually believed. She stared at him for a moment, causing the Doctor to squirm a bit, before she huffed and turned back to her work. Luckily, she hadn’t dropped the bomb when the Doctor had scared her, so there wasn’t much left to do.

“What are you doing, though?” The Doctor asked, crouching behind her so that he could look over her shoulder curiously.

He was so close that Accalia could feel the heat coming off of his body, and she shifted uncomfortably. “Planting a bomb. Don’t worry, it’s tiny,” she added, anticipating the Doctor’s protests. “I loosened the bolts so that it will only take a small charge to knock it loose. This chandelier will drop during the wedding tomorrow, and then the wedding will be off. Simple.”

“That could actually work,” the Doctor murmured.

Accalia snorted. “You seem surprised. I’ve learned a lot since you knew me, Doctor,” she muttered, frowning in concentration as she programed the remote control aspect of the bomb.

“Yes you have,” the Doctor whispered, giving Accalia the impression that she wasn’t meant to hear.

She cleared her throat. “Done,” she announced, pausing to admire her handiwork before moving to stand up. She brushed against the Doctor as she moved, and she shuffled to put some space between them.

She faced the Doctor, watching him warily for a moment. “Honestly, how did you find me? I saw you back on Dapultuevane, and the universe is too big a place for a second meeting to be a coincidence. And besides, I know you. You don’t give up nearly as easily as you did on your TARDIS that day.” She glared at him; he wasn’t making eye contact. “What did you do?”

“The, uh, TARDIS, that is, my TARDIS, she might have figured out how tosenseyoursanywhereintimeandspace.” He said the last part so quickly, it merged into one word.

Accalia blinked for a moment, trying to figure out what he’d said. Once she figured it out, she glared indignantly. “You’re _stalking me?_ ” she snapped.

“Well—” the Doctor started, but Accalia cut him off.

            “You have no right!” She snapped. She was ready to continue on a tirade, but movement below caught her eye; a couple of church officials had entered the room. “Down, down, down!” She hissed, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him to lay flat on the beam. Her hand was on top of his mouth, her body on top of his. Her head was next to his neck, peering over the edge to watch the people below.

            The lay in silence for about two minutes until the church officials left. Accalia breathed out a sigh of relief, then stiffened as she realized just how she’d positioned herself with the Doctor. She could feel the rapid beat of his hearts beneath her chest, and could practically feel his wide eyed gaze on her head. She practically leapt off of him, teetering on the thin beam for a moment before she caught her balance. She cleared her throat again, looking anywhere but at the Doctor, who had yet to get up.

            “Right, places to go, people to see, bye!” She said quickly, turning around, and running the network of beams until she reached a ladder. She clambered down to the floor, and ran out of the building.

            The Doctor, meanwhile, was thanking his superior biology for his respiratory bypass, since he hadn’t dared to draw a breath from the moment his Rose had grabbed his collar.

            When Accalia showed up to the wedding the next day, the chandelier dropped and the wedding was cancelled. Both the would-be bride and groom thanked her profusely before she left. The Doctor didn’t make an appearance.

            Accalia was more careful after that, once she knew that the Doctor could find her wherever she went. Luckily, the TARDIS sensing bit worked both ways. She got into the habit of waiting in the TARDIS for an hour or so after she landed, waiting for her TARDIS to assure her the Doctor wasn’t on the planet. Sometimes it worked out and she was able to leave the planet after the Doctor had landed. Sometimes it didn’t, and the Doctor would show up when she least expected him to.

            It was frustrating, and annoying, and it was making Accalia severely paranoid, constantly looking over her shoulder, and jumping every time she saw a bowtie. Her fingers itched to curl into a fist and punch him every time she saw him.

            And yet, there were a few times when she was grateful for him. One of the things that hadn’t changed from when she first started traveling was that she spent an extraordinary amount of time in jail. The Doctor had shown up more than once and broken her out. She always grumbled and insisted she could have done it herself, but he did save her a lot of time. And some of the ways he broke her out were down right ingenious, such as the time he somehow managed to organize a prison-wide flashmob, and snuck her out through a hole under the gate while the guards were trying to figure out what was going on.

            His showing up everywhere wouldn’t have been half as annoying, either, if he didn’t have that huge, self-satisfied grin every time he showed up. Honestly, he was like an over excited puppy that was pleased with itself for finding its mistress. It was driving Accalia mad. She refused to admit that his determination was slightly endearing. Because it wasn’t. It was annoying. At least, that’s what she kept telling herself.

            She was sitting in a cell on small planet that was primarily populated with aliens that looked like a sort of cross between a slug and a scorpion. She’d been arrested for, ahem, _liberating_ a hovercraft and then _crashing_ that hovercraft into the senate building. Never mind that the senate had all been possessed by a psychic alien that intended to kill off the majority of the population in order to make room for its own nomadic race. Never mind that the explosion had jarred the senate into alertness. Never mind that nobody had been hurt.

            No, it was all “How dare you steal that hovercraft!” and “You destroyed the senate building!” and, her personal favorite, “You could have single-handedly sent this country into chaos!” Right. If she wanted to send the country into chaos, they’d already be there.

            She was to spend the night in jail, and attend court the next day. She would be sentenced from there.

            Accalia had other plans. She was pretty sure she could climb out through one of the air ducts. The slug-like nature of the population meant that they didn’t build their jails with bipedal life forms in mind; so, while they were rather high up the wall, the air ducts were rather wide, and were held closed by a simple latch. It would be far too simple. Accalia just had to wait for the—very slow—guard to move out of sight of her cell.

            And, of course, if this plan didn’t work, she’d just kill herself and wait for the guards to remove her body. It wasn’t exactly pleasant, but it wouldn’t be the first time she’d done it.

            Her plans were cut short, however, when a second slug-scorpion made its way to her door, its stinger trained on—

            “Oh you have _got_ to be kidding me,” Accalia muttered angrily, watching as the Doctor—sporting that _damn_ grin—was escorted into her cell.

            “Hello!” He greeted cheerfully, before turning to wave as the guard left.

            “What the hell are you doing here?” Accalia snapped.

            “I came to break you out!” He exclaimed cheerfully. Accalia stared at him. “Right, well, I might have been caught in the process of breaking you out. They threw me in with you since they assume we’re the same species,” he shrugged, moving to plop down next to her.

            Accalia groaned and dropped her head onto her knees. “Some knight in shining armor you are,” she muttered, not pausing to consider her words. Her head shot up. “Not that I expected you to be, or that I think of you as—” the Doctor was grinning at her again. Accalia’s hand twitched. “Right, never mind,” she muttered, dropping her head onto her knees again to hide her red face.

            They were silent for a few minutes, but Accalia could practically _feel_ the smugness radiating off of the Doctor, who was _sitting far too close to her_. She scooted a bit away. The Doctor’s shoulder bumped hers as he scooted even closer than before. She raised her head to glare at him, her look clearly stating _‘you are a child.’_ The Doctor grinned.

            Accalia leapt to her feet, and began pacing the small cell. The guard that was patrolling the hallway had made it past her cell, but since she was at the end of the hall, she wanted to wait for him to go back the other way.

            “So, what’re you in for?” The Doctor asked in what Accalia assumed was supposed to be his “tough” voice.

            She didn’t even pause to look at him. “You’re not funny.”

            “Wasn’t trying to be.” He paused. “Okay, maybe a little. I assume you’re the one who blew up the senate building?” Accalia didn’t respond, and the Doctor nodded. “I was curious, how’d you get off the hovercraft before it crashed?”

            “I didn’t,” she muttered, turning at the wall to start her march back to the other side of the cell.

            “You didn—Oh,” The Doctor muttered as he understood.

            “Not being able to stay dead has its advantages sometimes,” Accalia said lightly, and wondered why she was talking to him. It would only encourage him.

            “Have you…have you ever wanted to die?” The Doctor asked quietly, as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

            Accalia didn’t respond, and the Doctor nodded, his face sad. “How many times?” His voice was almost inaudible.

            “How many times what?” Accalia snapped, even though she knew what he was asking.

            “How many times did you try?” The Doctor’s voice was angry now.

            Accalia stopped pacing, and stared longingly at the air duct. Maybe having them cart out her dead body was the better option… “I don’t know,” she said finally, turning her head to look at the Doctor. “I lost count.”

            The Doctor sighed shakily. “Any recently?”

            She shook her head. “I haven’t tried in a while. No point, never works.” It wasn’t a _complete_ lie. She hadn’t slit her wrists or shot herself, at least. She’d gotten reckless, and that had gotten her killed a few times, but she wasn’t _actively_ trying to kill herself.

            The guard was back in front of their cell, making its way towards the longer stretch of hall. Accalia ignored the Doctor in favor of surreptitiously watching the guard until it was out of sight.

            “Give me a boost,” she said, once the coast was finally clear.

            “What?” The Doctor asked even as he stood and moved over to her.

            She motioned to the air duct. “Give me a boost so I can open it.” She paused, then sighed. “I’ll pull you up once I’m inside.”

            The Doctor nodded his understanding, being surprisingly quiet. He crouched down; Accalia stared at him for a moment before she realized what he meant for her to do. With a sigh, she quickly climbed up to sit on his shoulders. “Careful!” She exclaimed as he stood, wobbling a bit.

            “Just hurry up, you’re not as light as you look!”

            “Oi!” Accalia protested, reaching up to pull the latch, allowing the grating that covered their escape route to fall open. She shifted, pulling her legs free of the Doctor’s grip. “Ow!” Came the annoyed cry from below, but Accalia ignored him, moving so that she was standing on his shoulders.

            “Oh, sure, by all means, use me as a ladder,” the Doctor muttered sarcastically.

            “Hush,” Accalia muttered, slipping her arms into the opening and pulling herself inside. She turned and lay on her belly, looking down at the Doctor. He lifted his arms to her so she could pull him in; and for one, shameful moment, Accalia considered just leaving him there. But she reached her arms down to him, anchoring herself by pressing her legs to either side of the venting.

            Their hands were a few inches short of each other, and the Doctor jumped to reach her. Accalia grunted as her arms were pulled tight by his sudden weight. “Right, and I’m the heavy one,” she growled as she slowly retracted her arms, pulling him up until he could grab the edges and do the rest himself.

            “You need to lay off the jammie dodgers,” she panted.

            “Oi!” The Doctor complained.

            The glared at each other for a moment before they both burst out into laughter. They slapped their hands over their mouths to muffle the noise in the echo-y ventilation.

            Accalia turned over to start crawling away after she’d calmed down, and the noise behind her let her know the Doctor was following. They moved in silence, trying to not to clunk around too much as they crawled.

            Accalia’s mind was very loud; she’d just _laughed_ with the Doctor. She didn’t even remember the last time she had laughed _period_ , let alone with the Doctor. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have him back in her life…

            But no, he didn’t want her, he wanted Rose. But she couldn’t be Rose.

            They jumped out of an opening on the side of the building about ten minutes later, and dusted themselves off.

            “Do you want—” the Doctor started, but Accalia cut across him, already backing away.

            “I should be going. Thanks. For the help back there. Bye.” Then she turned and all but ran away.

            The Doctor sighed and fell back to lean against the wall. He allowed himself a small smile. She’d _laughed_.


	24. Chapter 23

            The Doctor continued to show up wherever Accalia went, until one day she snapped.

            “You cannot keep following me like this!” She hissed, dragging him away from the festival she’d been enjoying until he popped up. “It’s an invasion of privacy, and, frankly, it’s creepy.” She reached the edge of the empty town, and let the Doctor go, turning to glare at him.

            He looked nervous and guilty, twisting his hands in that way he did when he was upset. “I, um, I know. I just…” he sighed, and dropped his hands, finally looking her in the eye. “I’ve already lost everyone else. I can’t lose you again.” His voice was raw, open, and completely honest.

            Accalia felt a stab of pain at the implications of that statement. Rory. River. Amy. She shook herself, throwing her walls back up and glaring at the Doctor. “You haven’t had me in a long time,” she informed him, turning and walking back to the festival.

            He didn’t follow her.

            He didn’t show up as often after that, opting to give her space. She was grateful, but he still showed up occasionally, and somehow, this only made her paranoia worse.

            Which was why she was exceptionally twitchy while visiting a small town in Virginia in the 17th century. She’d dressed the part, knowing how…suspicious people in this time period where of anyone that didn’t fit in. She wandered the town, ignoring the looks she was getting from the villagers who were unused to strangers. The TARDIS had picked up strange energy fluxuations around here, and she just wanted to check it out, fix it, and leave.

            The fluxuations were caused by an alien that she’d never even heard of, called a Voltmyothon, which had crashed in the forest near the town a few weeks ago. Normally, Voltmyothons fed on electricity. Given its current situation, though, this particular Voltmyothon was making do by eating the brains of humans. It tried to explain the process by which, if the brain was eaten while it was still fresh, residual energy that was close enough to electricity was able to be harvested an used as food for him. Accalia got about half way through the explanation before she fired her gun (set to stun!) at him, and knocked him out. He’d already told her he wasn’t coming quietly, anyway, and she didn’t fancy listening to the whole ‘evil villain’ speech.

            Unfortunately, a little girl had seen the entire exchange, and had run back to the village screaming “Witch!” Accalia was promptly captured, put on trial, and sentenced to be burned at the stake. They through her in a stone room, devoid of any windows are obvious escape routes.

            It took Accalia approximately two hours to realize that she couldn’t escape this one. The door was too solid for her to kick down, there were no windows, she couldn’t dig her way out thanks to the stone that was also the floor, and there was no ventilation system to take advantage of. The only reason she could breathe was because of a crack under the door.

            She was struck with the bitter irony that while she could break out of all sorts of high tech prisons, a room made of rock was her undoing. She hoped no one ever found out about this.

            As sunset, her appointed stake-burning time, drew closer, Accalia began to worry for the first time in a while. She had died in many painful ways over the years, but death by fire was her least favorite. Added to the fear of the coming pain was her worry about what would happen if she came back to life with the villagers still around. Would they just keep burning her? Eventually they’d realize that that wasn’t working…then what? Perhaps put her in a noose and throw her off a bridge? Strangle her and drown her? And then leave her in the river for good measure? That would lead to a painful few years, constantly coming back to life, just to drown again…

            She shook herself, trying to shut down that line of thinking. It would do no good to work herself into a panic over something that hadn’t even happened yet.

            She continued to poke around the room, trying to find a way out with no success. She could hear the villagers coming to her prison to collect her, and she hurried to a corner to bury the necklace that held her and John’s wedding rings. She didn’t want them to get damaged in the fire. Or the fight.

            The doors opened, and Accalia threw herself at her captors, punching and kicking and clawing, taking down five of them before someone hit her in the back of the head hard enough to make her see stars, and still her actions long enough that she could be secured. By the time she got her senses about her again, they had her half way to the stake. She pushed and pulled, trying to free herself, but her captors held her tight.

            She was led to the top of the hastily constructed platform, and secured to the large wooden pole. She tried to fight her way free once more, but the bonds were too tight.

            “This is your last chance to reconcile yourself with God, witch. I suggest you take it,” the town preacher told her solemnly, the glow of the torch he was holding making his face look grotesque.

            Accalia was panicking now. This would not be a quick death, she was sure. And oh, god, it was going to hurt. She tried to keep from showing that panic, though. She knew these were just a bunch of scared, undereducated people, but she couldn’t help but be furious with them for what they were about to put her through. “Someday, you will all realize that witches do not exist everywhere you look. And when you do, look back on this day in shame, for you are violently killing an innocent woman,” she said coldly, watching as a few people shivered; she was mostly just proud she didn’t sound afraid. Of course, her little speech wouldn’t be nearly as effective if she was alive again in ten minutes and they had irrefutable “proof” that she was a witch, but hey, it was worth a shot.

            She stared up at the moon, just barely risen, refusing to watch as first one torch, then another, then many more, were thrown on her pyre.

            _‘Where’s the Doctor when I need him?’_ She thought to herself, slightly hysterical as the heat quickly became blistering, and the smoke started to fill her lungs.

            She tried to take a deep breath, hoping to die of asphyxiation before the fire got to her, and soon started hacking painfully. The first tongues of flame reached her bare foot, and she bit her tongue to keep from screaming. Blood filled her mouth.

            It quickly got worse after that, as her long dress caught fire and the flames swarmed her body, finally drawing a long, ear shattering scream from her throat. Her hair caught fire, and sent the flames straight to her scalp. She screamed and screamed, hoping to die, trying to find words, but only finding the one long, loud note that communicated her anguish with the onlookers below her. Finally, she died, and her world went black.

            When she gasped awake, she was launched straight back into a world of pain. Her body couldn’t regenerate until the fire was put out enough to not immediately kill her, but she was still lying on the smoldering remains of a fire. The embers beneath her burned her, making little bits of her skin catch fire before going out. And god, it was everywhere; it was almost as bad as being back in the fire.

 She rolled, tried to stand, and eventually fell off the smoking remains of her pyre, coughing the residual smoke from her lungs. Her whole body hurt, covered in burns and cuts and splinters. She was vaguely aware of screaming and frantic prayers before rough hands grabbed her and dragged her to her feet. The contact with her injuries made her vision darken around the edges, and her hearing dim considerably.

            They were discussing what their next options were, she was sure, but she couldn’t hear much of what they were saying at the moment. There were few things she was aware of, and they didn’t extend very far past her own skin: one: she was burned on approximately ninety percent of her body; two: the smoke was finally clearing her lungs; three: if these bloody idiots didn’t let her go soon, she was going to pass out.

            Her coughing finally died down, and she struggled to raise her eyes to take in what was happening around her. One of the villagers that were restraining her threw her to the ground, knocking the wind from her lungs, and making her black out for a few minutes. When she came to, she thought she could hear someone yelling angrily. She couldn’t quite bring herself to care; she just wanted them to kill her again so the pain would go away.

            There was a green light at the edge of her vision, and then someone was picking her up, eliciting a gasp of pain from her. Whoever was carrying her started running, and the jostling she received because of that made her black out again.

            “Oh, god, Rose, I’m sorry,” someone was whispering above her.

            She wasn’t moving anymore, and the pain was fading, but only slightly. She pried her eyes open, and was immediately blinded by a very large, very bright light. She tried again, slower, and realized she was in the med bay of the TARDIS…the Doctor’s TARDIS.

            “Doc…tor…?” She mumbled, and the man in question suddenly appeared over her.

            “It’s alright, Rose, you’re going to be alright,” he said frantically, and moved away again.

            “Nano...genes…?” She asked, hoping for the small mechanical creatures that would take away her pain.

            “I don’t have any, sorry. It’s going to take a lot longer my way,” the Doctor said sorrowfully.

            Accalia didn’t like that at all. “Kill me. It’s…faster. I’ll heal…when I come…back…” she whispered, her voice hoarse and pain filled.

            The Doctor appeared in her field of vision again, looking horrified. “I…I can’t kill you, Rose, I just…I can’t…” he whispered, his hands fluttering over her uselessly.

            Accalia grunted in either pain or annoyance, she wasn’t even sure anymore. “Let me…do it…then,” she growled out. The Doctor hesitated, unsure. “Please,” Accalia whispered. He hesitated a moment longer, then nodded, disappearing again.

            He returned moments (decades) later, and gingerly pressed a knife into her burned, pain riddled hand. “It’s all I could find,” he whispered, trying to help her grasp the knife. Her hand was so damaged, she was having trouble closing her finger around the handle. Finally, the Doctor wrapped his hand around hers (and oh god, he was trying to help, but his touch on her charred skin made her eyes water and her throat catch), and helped her raise the knife to her throat. He made eye contact with her, hesitating, and Accalia found the strength to wrench her hand from his grasp and sink the blade deep into her throat.

            She tried to gasp at the entirely new pain, but all she could manage was a gurgle as blood rose up in her mouth, choking her and spilling over her lips. It was quick though, and her world went black once more.

            She returned to the world of the living a few minutes later, and the first thing she was aware of was that she was blessedly pain free. The second thing she was aware of was that she wasn’t wearing a stich of clothing; they must have burned off in the fire. And the third thing she was aware of was that her face was pressed into the Doctor’s chest, and he was holding her very tightly.

            His head was buried in her hair, and judging by the wetness, he was crying. She gently moved to pull away, but he only held her tighter, a slight noise of desperation leaving his throat.

            “Doctor?” She asked quietly, pressing a hand to his chest, feeling one of his hearts beat erratically beneath it.

            “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he whispered into her hair, over and over.

            “Shh, shh, I’m fine. See? No burns, nothing, everything’s okay now, see?” She said reassuringly, trying to pull away again. He let her this time, but wouldn’t look at her. He simply turned and grabbed a blanket from a cabinet, tossing it to her. She caught it and wrapped it around herself, covering up. The Doctor still wouldn’t look at her, and his face had gone blank. His eyes, though, his eyes were blazing with…what? Anger? Regret? Sorrow?

            “Doctor?” Accalia asked again.

            “I shouldn’t feel so guilty,” he said blankly. Accalia frowned, confused. “You’re alive, and uninjured now because of it, but I—” he made a choking noise, and fell silent.

            Accalia’s frown deepened. “Is this about me killing myself? Doctor, I did that, not you. And I’m healthier for it! There’s no need for you to feel guilty,” she assured him, sliding off of the—very cold—metal examining table.

            “But I _helped_ you. Got you the knife, helped you hold it, positioned it over your throat…”

            “And I’m _better_ because of it, I told you. If you hadn’t done that, I’d still be laying on that table, begging for death because of the pain I was in.” It felt weird, to be reassuring him again. Most of their conversations as of late consisted of her yelling at him, or making a sarcastic statement, not reassuring him.

            Anger crept into the Doctor’s face when she mentioned the pain she’d felt. “Those stupid superstitious _apes_ ,” he growled, sounding remarkably like his ninth incarnation. It seemed his self-hatred was easily redirected at the moment.

            “How did you get me away from them?” Accalia asked curiously. She was grateful his anger wasn’t directed inwardly at the moment.

            “Convinced them I was an official of the church and you were mine to deal with.” He hesitated. “I may have also told them that you were a warrior of God, not a witch, and they had all secured themselves a place in Hell for molesting you like that,” he added quietly.

            “Doctor! That’s worse than death to those people!” Accalia yelled, angry now.

            He turned to face her, fury lining his face now. “Well they deserved it! And what about you, huh? You know to be more careful than that, you know better than to get caught! Especially by people who would burn you for being a witch!” He snarled, drawing closer to her.

            She glared up at him. “Like you were always the epitome of subtly,” she bit back. “I went down there to do a job, I didn’t expect for a little girl to follow me into the woods and see things she wasn’t supposed to!”

            “Well you should have been prepared!” The Doctor yelled in her face, turning away sharply and pacing the small room.

            Accalia glared at him as he moved, her knuckles white from how tightly she was gripping the blanket. He stopped walking, and ran a hand over his face. “Sorry, I’m…sorry. I just…I thought…” he trailed off, and glanced at her before looking away again. “I thought I’d lost you,” he muttered.

            “Doctor, I can’t _die_ ,” she reminded him exasperatedly.

            “I know, I know, but…seeing you lying there, not moving and covered in burns…and then again, when you slit your throat…seeing you dead, it was hard to remember it wasn’t permanent. And…and all I could think was ‘She’s dead. She’s dead and I never…I never let her know how much I loved her.’ And I haven’t, Rose, I haven’t let you know. I’ve followed you, I’ve bothered you, I’ve made you uncomfortable. All I’ve done since you came back is to try and force you into being the same woman I remembered, and you’re not her anymore, Rose.” He walked over to her, and Accalia tried to move away, but she was already pressed to the table. He put his hands on her shoulders.

            “You’re still Rose, I’m positive of that. But you’re different than the girl I saved in the basement of Henricks centuries ago. You’re braver, stronger, more confident.” He paused. “And yeah, a little broken. But I’m still in love with you, Rose. I suppose, actually, I just fell in love with you all over again. And I love you so much, and, and…and I just need you to know that. In case…in case.” He smiled hesitantly, and pulled away from her. “I’ll take you back to your TARDIS now. I kind of moved us into the Vortex when I brought you on board,” he muttered, turning to walk out of the room.

            “Why?” Accalia asked suddenly, her voice small and frightened.

            The Doctor turned back to her, confused. “Why what?”

            “Why…why. Why do you love me? Why are you so sure I’m still Rose? Why do you see anything even slightly redeemable in me? Why aren’t you repulsed by my very existence?”

            “Oh, Rose,” the Doctor whispered almost inaudibly, then, louder, “I love you because you’re Rose. I know you’re Rose because I see how you interact with others, and the affects you have on them. I see all the good you do in the world, and I know you’re not completely broken. And your existence is what keeps me sane, so I could never be repulsed by it.”

            “But Jack said—”

            “Jack said I couldn’t stand to be near him?” The Doctor asked, making a face. Accalia nodded. “When I first realized what he was, I didn’t know what to think. His…factualness, made my senses scream because it seemed wrong. But I spent time with him, realized he was still the same Jack,” he smiled, “and I got used to him. I can still sense him, but he doesn’t feel wrong now. He just feels like a fixed point. So do you.”

            Accalia stared at him, uncertain, confused. “I just…I don’t…”

            “It’s okay if you don’t love me back,” the Doctor hurried to assure her. “I just needed you to know.” He smiled at her, and when she remained silent, he left the room.

            “I do love you, I think. I just don’t know that I deserve it,” Accalia whispered to the empty room.


	25. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it. Rereading as I go along, I've gotten to see how far I've come since I've written this, which is incredibly encouraging. So if you've read this far, thank you. I hope you read something that I've written more recently, next.

            The first thing Accalia did when the Doctor dropped her off was to go to her TARDIS and put on some clothes. That done, she snuck back into the town to collect her necklace. She was halfway to what had been her prison when she realized the village was essentially deserted, and she didn’t need to put so much effort into not getting caught. A few minutes later, and she was brushing the dirt from the chain and rings, before slipping them back around her neck.

            “Right, get the alien, _again_ , and get out,” she muttered to herself, exciting the stone room that gave her goose bumps. And for once, things went mostly according to plan (she may have made a pit stop in the town church where all the villagers were to assure them they weren’t all going to hell); she recaptured the Voltmyathon with minimal difficulty (though he did try and give a villainous speech again), and dropped him off on his home planet within minutes.

            After that, she did a lot of pacing, cursing, and hair pulling before finally deciding to visit Jack. Jack-Jack, not Boe-Jack. She was still trying to wrap her head around that one.

            It was as she was landing that she realized no one had told Jack about River. “Oh god,” she whispered. She remained at the console, trying to figure out how she was going to break the news to Jack, but a sharp knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. She took a deep breath, and walked outside and into Jack’s flat.

            He grinned lazily at her. “Was wondering if you were ever going to come out of there. You just missed River, by the way. She should be back tomorrow,” Jack called to her as he made his way to the kitchen.

            Accalia gaped at his back, mouth opening and closing like a fish, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. Of course. _Of course_. River was a time traveler; what was current to Accalia might still be future to Jack. River still lived in his timeline, and that meant that Accalia _could see River again!_

            _‘No. No you can’t,’_ some part of her brain that sounded suspiciously like the Doctor whispered. And as much as she hated to admit it, she knew it was true. If she saw River now, she’d warn her about what would happen at the library, stop her from going. The consequences that could come from that action…well, it was something Accalia knew she couldn’t risk.

            “You alright? You’re awfully quiet,” Jack frowned, handing her a cup of tea.

            Accalia accepted it gratefully, and tried to smile at Jack, shoving her thoughts of River aside forcefully. She couldn’t tell him about River, either, because he’d try to stop her, too. “Just…a long day,” she muttered.

            “Care to share?” Jack asked, sitting down on the couch, and motioning for her to do the same.

            Accalia sat down next to him, and, haltingly, told him about her day. He nodded sympathetically. “Being burned alive is the worst,” he agreed. She told him the Doctor rescued her, but left out the part where he told her he loved her; it just seemed…to intimate to share, even with Jack.

            By the time she’d finished talking, Jack had replaced her tea with a tumbler of brandy. “You need something stronger,” he’d explained when he handed it to her. She rolled the glass between her hands, studying the liquid, a small frown on her face.

            “You’re leaving something out,” Jack commented, studying her.

            Accalia hesitated. “I’ve been…I am…” she sighed. “I don’t know who I am anymore,” she admitted, and finished off her glass with a wince. Jack motioned for her to go on. “You and the Doctor insist on calling me Rose. I call myself Accalia. The Doctor told me why he calls me Rose, I told him why I call myself Accalia. And lately…his reasons make more sense than mine,” she shook her head. “I want to be more like the person he describes,” she whispered, rubbing her head.

            “‘What’s in a name? That which we call a Rose by any other name would smell as sweet,’” Jack quoted, smiling. Accalia glared at him. “What, it’s true!” He defended. “Look, I’ve always called you Rose because no matter what you call yourself, or these little ways you’ve changed, you’re always the same person underneath. You always smell as sweet,” his lips twitched into a smile as Accalia groaned at the bad joke. “Really though. You change your name to help you run from the past. It doesn’t change who you are,” Jack shrugged, leaning back into the couch.

            Accalia considered him for a moment. “You really believe that?” She asked, unsure.

            “Really do!” He said cheerfully.

            Accalia fell silent, thinking, and Jack stayed silent and let her work everything out. If she decided to believe all this, to accept it and to call herself Rose once more, it meant that she would have to accept everything else that had happened in her life; _everything_. From John’s death, to the destruction of the universe. From befriending Rory, to her insanity when she thought the Doctor was dead. From adopting River to losing the entire Pond family. Becoming Rose meant a lot of _pain_.

            And yet… all she was doing was running. Running from her past, her mistakes, her failures…but running from so much happiness, too. It hadn’t all been bad…She thought of her life with her mother, meeting the Doctor, traveling when the universe was still so new and strange. She thought of her friends in both universes, of seeing her mother happy and married to Pete; her baby brother Tony and how happy he’d made all of them. She thought of her years with John, and how she wouldn’t trade them for anything. She thought of all the wonderful people she’d met, she thought of Alaric. She thought of Rory and his unwavering loyalty to those he loved. She thought of Amy and her fierce protectiveness. She thought of River and her teasing smiles and brilliant mind. She thought of Jack, with all his ridiculousness, and his brotherly relationship with her. She thought of the Doctor, and how he never lost faith in her, despite of it all. She thought of how he still loved her.

            And then she wondered when she’d started crying. She laughed, startled, and turned to look at Jack, who was smiling at her crookedly.

            “Hello, Jack,” she whispered, hiccupping.

            “Hello, Rose,” Jack answered. Rose laughed, and hugged him tightly.

 

            The Doctor was trying to fix the TARDIS, honest, but he kept getting distracted by thoughts of Rose. He’d remember how she looked, charred and burned and so _vulnerable_ , lying on the ground at the feet of a few religious fanatics. Then he would shiver, and check with the TARDIS to see where Rose was. Then he’d force himself to calm down, and go back to work. And then the whole cycle would start all over again. It was driving him mad.

            He was muttering to himself when he went to check the screen for Rose’s position again. “She’s _fine_ , she needs _space_ , she doesn’t _want you_ …” he trailed off with a frown when he saw where she was.

            Woman Wept. What on Gallifrey was she doing there? _‘Just a pleasure trip, it is a beautiful planet, after all,’_ he thought to himself, trying not to jump to conclusions. He’d never told her, of course, but he’d always thought of Woman Wept as _their_ place. He’d taken her there back when he was still leather clad and large-eared. It had been after the incident with her father and the paradox. She’d put on a brave face for a few days, trying not to let on how much she was hurting, how guilty she felt, but he’d seen right through her. It was what made him decide to take her to Woman Wept; it was calm and beautiful there. The Doctor had thought she needed something beautiful after all that pain.

            Of course, the planet had paled in comparison to her beauty, but he hadn’t told her that; so convinced his attentions would be unwanted, his affections unreturned. He’d settled for just watching her, soaking her in, and reminding himself she was real.

            And now she was back on their planet. He stared at the little red dot that represented her, waiting for her to leave. But she didn’t, she just stayed there. _‘What if she’s waiting for you?’_ Before he could even finish the thought, he was sending the TARDIS to Woman Wept.

            He landed next to her TARDIS (his clever girl, making the ship look like a door), and looked around for her. A splash of brown against the blues, whites, and greys drew his eyes, and he started walking to her.

            She was sitting on a blanket on the ground, just staring out at the frozen waves. She’d heard his approach, she must have, but she hadn’t reacted at all. He hesitated, then sat down next to her on the blanket.

            “The first time you took me here,” she said after a moment, her quiet voice startling him, “I was so sad. But seeing this place…” she smiled, still not looking at him. “it didn’t really help.”

            He frowned, and turned to look at her, confused now. She’d been so much happier after their trip here, what did she mean this place hadn’t helped?

            “The way you were looking at me, though, when you thought I couldn’t see,” she turned to face him finally, the small smile in place, “that made all the difference in the world.”

            The Doctor’s eyes widened. He hadn’t realized she’d seen him that day. And if she’d seen him…then she’d known about his feelings for her a lot longer than he’d thought she had.

            “I can’t promise it will be easy, or that it will be the way it was before. I can’t promise we’ll have a fairy tale ending, or that we’ll never be apart. I can’t promise I won’t turn into a giant psychic head,” she grinned and he wondered distractedly when she’d learned about the Face of Boe and Jack. “But I can promise to try. If we go slowly.”

            “How,” he licked his lips, wondering if this was really happening, “how slow, exactly?”

            She grinned, her tongue between her teeth, and he felt his breathing stutter. It had been so long since he’d seen that smile. She stuck out her hand. “Hi, I’m Rose Tyler. I’m eight hundred and four years old, I can’t die, and I might be in love with you.”

            He smiled slowly, taking her hand in his and shaking it. “I’m the Doctor, I’m twelve hundred years old, this is my eleventh face, and I have loved you for a very long time.”

 

            True to her word, things went slowly between the Doctor and Rose. They continued to travel on their own, but met up frequently. The frequency only increased when Rose’s TARDIS learned to track the Doctor’s.

            The first time Rose stayed the night in the Doctor’s TARDIS, it was after a particularly taxing adventure that left them both so drained, that they just stumbled onto the Doctor’s TARDIS without thinking. Rose slept on the Doctor’s bed, the Doctor slept in a chair in the same room. She stayed over on the Doctor’s TARDIS every so often after that, usually because she’d stayed over to talk. The first time they shared a bed was on one of these occasions when they’d both fallen asleep while sitting on the Doctor’s bed. There was a lot of blushing the next morning, as they’d ended up spooning in their sleep.

            Their first kiss was initiated by Rose while they were in an alien market, haggling with a vender over a zig-zag plotter Rose needed to fix her TARDIS. The old man (who had at least sixty percent amphibian DNA) kept insisting he couldn’t let it got for anything other than Malanbi crystal. Rose laughed at him.

            “Mate, that bit of metal and plastic is barely worth a bit of Earth Gold. I could get about a million of them for a Malanbi crystal!” She informed him.

            “Please, do try and cheat her,” the Doctor had said absently, looking at a shiny bit of wiring that had been tossed in a junk basket. “I love watching her yell clever things at stupid people.”

            “He only says that because it’s a new thing I do,” she confided conspiratorially to the vender, who was quickly becoming confused.

            The Doctor scoffed, turning to look at her. “No it’s not. You’ve been yelling clever things at stupid people since I met you,” he informed her.

            Rose blinked for a moment, then stepped up to the Doctor, and placed her lips lightly on his. She smiled before pulling away, and going back to the vender. She eventually got the zig-zag plotter for the right price, and the Doctor walked around in a bit of a daze, but very smug, for the rest of the day.

            They had sex for the first time in a jail on an alien planet (somehow this failed to surprise either of them). It was Rose’s fault, the Doctor would tell anyone who would listen (which was an unsurprisingly small audience). Really, it was all her fault.

            They’d been trying to find a way out when the Doctor had casually mentioned that Rose still hadn’t told him what she thought of his new body. She’d raised an eyebrow; turning away from the lock she’d been inspecting, then grinned in a way that was just mischievous enough to scare the Doctor a bit.

            “Well,” she said, voice low, moving away from the door to circle the Doctor slowly, her eyes dragging across his form deliberately. The Doctor’s ears were turning red from the intensity of her gaze, something that amused Rose immensely. “Still skinny…a bit shorter…nice bum,” she purred, making him jump when she brushed her hand across it. “Angular face…surprised I haven’t cut myself on it yet, honestly,” she mused, trailing her fingers across his cheek bones and making him swallow. She pushed his jacket off of him, the Doctor’s limp limbs not offering much resistance. “Great arms,” she informed him, pushing up his sleeves to get a better look at them. “Love the bow tie,” she grinned wickedly.

            And that was when his control officially snapped, and the next thing he knew was they were both on the ground, clothes flying away as if they had desires of their own to escape.

            The prison ended up letting them go after that little display, mistaking their enthusiastic coupling for a ritual performed by their people to call down bad luck.

            “Pity,” Rose had commented as they walked away hand in hand. “They don’t know what they’re missing.” The Doctor had picked her up and all but run to the TARDIS after that.

            Eventually, they came to the decision that it was a bit ridiculous to have two TARDISs. They slept primarily in the Doctor’s, and they always went to the same places now. They only parted so that Rose could move her TARDIS to wherever they were going that day.

            Rose hated to part with her TARDIS, who had been with her through so much. Her TARDIS was the only thing that kept her sane for years, and to give her up seemed ungrateful, somehow. But she had a long conversation with the Old Girl, and they reached an agreement.

            Rose gave her TARDIS to Jack, just like she’d tried to give him the Doctor’s TARDIS when she’d thought him dead. Jack, of course, had done a lot of stammering, and “I can’t accept this!”-ing.

            “Look, you have been there for me through _a lot_ the past few years, and I’ll never be able to thank you enough. There’s no one else I would trust my TARDIS with. Besides, you’re not going to be able to stay at Torchwood forever,” Jack looked pained at this. “I know, you love it there. But you know how they are with anything…abnormal. Eventually, they’ll catch on that you’re not aging, and you know how well _that_ will go over. When that happens, you’ll have the TARDIS. She already loves you,” Rose added with a small smile.

            Eventually, Jack agreed, and Rose bid a sad farewell to the TARDIS, promising to visit soon, and often.

            And so the Doctor and Rose travelled together like they had so many years before. They were both different from when they’d started; him in body and her in soul. They were married, in traditional Galifreyan style, a few years after Rose officially moved into the Doctor’s TARDIS. Rose was unable to have children, a fact that they mourned for a while, before making up for it by having enthusiastic sex in places generally considered inappropriate.

            They weren’t always happy. They weren’t always polite. They fought over stupid things and grumbled about each other’s habits. But they always managed to laugh at whatever had made them angry in the first place, and they never wavered in their love for one another. And, just like he promised, the Doctor never left Rose again.

They were both still plagued by nightmares of their pasts, but in the arms of the other, they were able to heal and, finally, move on. Sometimes Rose would relapse, and start trying to pull away from the Doctor. He would patiently remind her that he loved her, and that he was never, ever, going to leave her. Rose would realize that even if she did run from him, he wouldn’t give up on her; he would never give up on her. And she wouldn’t trade him for anyone in the multiverse.

            Because when the Wolf runs, the only thing that can catch her is the Storm.


End file.
